


Secret Union

by AceTrainerAlicia



Series: The Adventures of Jaina: A Faith Renewed [11]
Category: Runescape
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, F/M, Fluff, Nosy Neighbors, Wedding Planning, adorable small children, foreshadowing ahoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-27 05:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7604620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceTrainerAlicia/pseuds/AceTrainerAlicia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Making last-ditch efforts to prepare for a private, secret wedding isn't easy, particularly if you've come out of a week-long magical sleep and are trying to learn what happened... for her, everything seems to turn into an adventure!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

One might think that she ought to feel well-rested, relaxed, and renewed after such a long nap. Of course, none of those were even close to a part of the swirling storm of emotions she actually felt.

In the hours since she’d woken up from her mysterious unwitting week-long magical sleep, many questions had swirled through Jaina’s mind—what had she missed, why didn’t she remember what had caused her magical coma, what had happened exactly that had made her memory so hazy, how many people were worried about her—though it had taken a little bit for full-on panic mode to set in.

Now she was walking frantically around her kitchen table, trying to think over all those questions—and consider what she should do first—at once. Jaina was at least sure that no memory-altering magic had been involved, otherwise she would remember something else instead of the hazy blanks she was drawing—and she did remember seeing Zanik at the resort beforehand. Should she go back there and look around?

No, there wasn’t time for that yet! She had a secret wedding to prepare for, and only half the time left to do so. She’d need something to wear—and she would either need to make it herself or randomly pull something out of her closet; certainly one of her nicest dresses would be suitable—a means of discreet travel, and maybe a cake—should she make that herself, too? She would be content with a simple chocolate cake instead of some expensive dreamily frosted creation… then again, her brother’s infamous appetite might compensate for the relative lack of guests that would need to eat.

Her brother! She hadn’t yet gotten to ask him to come, and she still wasn’t sure how she was either going to explain Dr. Nabanik’s little secret to him or convince him to keep his mouth shut about it. The sooner she got that over with, the better… but wouldn’t he be worried about her, if he knew about her long sleep?

He surely wouldn’t be the only one to worry, either! So would her neighbors, and Zanik, and her fellow adventurers at the Legends’ Guild… and Azzanadra…

Of course—he must be terribly worried about her, and he would likely have found out the reason for her absence already, which would worry him further… She had to see him; there was no time to waste!

As she looked for her bag, Jaina heard a knock at the door. Well, she could hardly ignore whoever was there, though she really hoped the guest wouldn’t keep her long.

She hurried to get the door, and couldn’t help but feel a bit surprised at the sight. There, on her doorstep, stood a small child, wearing a pink apron and a green polka-dot bow in her curly light brown hair, a cream-covered pie in her small hands.

“Miss Katarn?” the small girl asked, looking up at Jaina with large, round green eyes. “Are you okay? The grown-ups all said you weren’t feeling so good…”

She held up the pie. “I baked you something to help you feel better! It’s lemon-rang pie!”

“Oh—this is quite a pleasant surprise! Thank you—please, come on in!” Jaina smiled as she motioned the small girl in. She seemed familiar, but which of her neighbors was she—wait, she remembered…

“Ah, you’re little Julia—Frenita’s granddaughter, yes? You’ve certainly grown since I saw you last!”

“I’m five!” Julia replied, eagerly following Jaina into the kitchen. “I’ve heard lots of stuff about you, but I haven’t met you before…”

“You wouldn’t remember me, I’m afraid,” said Jaina, shaking her head. “You were just learning to walk when I saw you last! I still remember when you were born…”

Climbing up on a chair, Julia set the pie on the table and sat down, motioning to it expectantly. “Have some of my lemon-rang pie, Miss Katarn! It’s really good, promise!”

Taking a seat herself, Jaina carefully cut a slice of the pie, noticing its bright yellow filling. Curiously she sampled a bit, and found herself smiling contentedly. It was smooth, creamy, and tasted sweet and tart at the same time.

“This is quite good indeed… and please, you can call me Jaina!”

“Okay, Miss Jaina!” Julia said cheerfully, giving her a toothy smile. “So you like it? I made it all by myself!”

Jaina smiled and nodded. “You certainly have a great talent for cooking already…”

“Yep! Nana’s been teaching me to cook!” Julia’s face lit up. “Mommy says I need to go to school at the guild and learn some magic soon, but I wanna practice cooking with Nana more—I wanna be a master chef when I grow up!”

“I’m sure you can,” Jaina said, cutting a slice of pie for the child. “You need to practice as often as you can, and read lots of different cookbooks and recipes—if you get good enough, your recipes might become big in Ardougne! And when you’re older, you should apply for the Cooks’ Guild in Varrock—the most talented cooks in the world are members.”

“Wow, there’s a Cooks’ Guild?” Julia seemed too excited at the prospect to notice the slice of pie that Jaina had passed to her just yet. “Someday I’m gonna go there!”

“It would still be worth it to study magic as well, though,” Jaina pointed out, pausing to savor the next bit of pie. “Magic works quite similarly to cooking—runes are the ingredients, and spells are the recipe. You can even use magic in cooking too!”

Julia looked up from her slice of pie and blinked. “How do you do that?”

“A simple Fire Strike is good for warming a dish or a drink, or even for roasting meat, and I know a spell that bakes pies without an oven.”

“Wow, really?” The small girl seemed to be bouncing with excitement in her seat. “Do the wizards at the guild do all their cooking with magic, then? Am I gonna learn the pie spell if I go to school?”

Jaina laughed. “I’m afraid the wizards who work in the kitchen mess up more often than not when they try to cook with magic! You should have seen the apprentices who would come out of there covered in flour and soot!”

As Julia immediately burst into a giggle-fit, Jaina couldn’t help but laugh a little louder herself. The sight had been even funnier when she’d seen it, and it never had stopped being hilarious.

It took her a moment to regain her composure. “As for the pie spell, I learned that from the Moonclan, up in the far northwest. I’m well-versed in three different spellbooks—the one most widely used worldwide, the one the Moonclan created, and the third… well, it’s very old, only a few people besides me know it, and that’s partly because most mages are too superstitious to use it.” She frowned deeply, gazing down at the pie. “I think some wizards might actually be afraid of me, and think I’m a witch.”

And they would surely think worse than that, she knew, if word got out that she was seeing Azzanadra. She had bargained with an evil sorcerer and traded herself to him in exchange for dark magical secrets, they would say. The kinder people might say she had acted out of ignorance, and had not realized she was promising herself to him or had not understood the nature of the magic, or that he had tricked or blackmailed her into it—but even if they did give her the benefit of the doubt, it would still be difficult to show her face in public anymore…

“Awww, Miss Jaina, you can’t be a witch,” Julia declared, snapping Jaina out of her thoughts. “Witches are old and ugly and smell funny!”

“You shouldn’t be too quick to believe any sort of person is either always good or always bad,” said Jaina, her voice quiet and even. “I’ve met a few perfectly nice witches, and one of my best friends is a goblin. There are good and bad individuals in every race, every town, every trade…”

“You made friends with a goblin?” Julia asked, wide-eyed, but before Jaina could reply, there came another knock on the door, this one louder and a bit more insistent. Might this be another worried neighbor?

Slowly Jaina rose from her chair. “Ah, sorry, but I should go get that…”

She went to the door, and sure enough it was one of her neighbors, looking rather flustered. Her gaze fell immediately upon Julia, who had curiously followed behind.

“Julia! What are you doing? Haven’t I told you not to run off alone?” Beckoning to the small child, she looked up at Jaina and smiled awkwardly. “Good afternoon! I see you’re back on your feet, Jaina—the guild wizards must have assisted you already! The whole town has been worried about you, even moreso when Distentor found there was magic involved…”

Jaina nodded in greeting. “Good afternoon, Amalie. Don’t worry, I’m quite alright—I woke up on my own early this morning.”

“Ah, praise Saradomin for such good fortune! Well, I do hope that my daughter did not bother you too much,” Amalie said, taking Julia by the hand. “I did tell her that the wizards could help you just fine, but she doesn’t always listen…”

“Oh no,” said Jaina, “I did very much appreciate her company! She was truly a joy to be around.”

She smiled brightly and leaned down to pat Julia on the head. “You’re welcome to visit me any time you like! You might even get to play with some of my pets if you want.”

“Thanks, Miss Jaina!” Julia smiled broadly up at her. “I’ll make you something special again the next time I visit!”

“Really, Julia, you should have higher aspirations than simple cookery,” Amalie said, shaking her head. “It may be useful, yes, but if you get a good education and learn politics and history, you could one day impress a nobleman in Ardougne, and become an esteemed lady in King Thoros’ court!”

“But I don’t wanna be a princess,” Julia complained, wrinkling her nose. “Princesses are fancy and lazy and make servants do stuff for them instead of doing anything by themselves! I think Nana’s right—food tastes better if you make it yourself.”

“Your grandmother spent years doing nothing but feeding soldiers day in and day out. Don’t you think you deserve a better life than that?” Sighing, Amalie turned her attention back to Jaina. “Are you sure you’re alright? You should go to the guild, have the wizards check you for any sign of residual dangerous magic or some kind of curse…”

“I’m sure, and I do believe I have it under control,” Jaina replied, nodding. She already knew where she was going to go next, and she wouldn’t need the guild wizards to examine her after that.

“You at least should go and tell everyone the good news,” Amalie insisted. “We have all been so worried, praying for your safety and your recovery…”

“There are others who are just as worried for me,” Jaina pointed out. “Word of my recovery should spread through town rather quickly now, but for someone like my brother, who still lives in Misthalin—well, it’s better that I go there personally.”

“You’re from Misthalin?” Julia asked. “Or did your brother move there when he grew up?”

“I am indeed… if I hadn’t fixed up and bought this house, I might live with my brother now.” Jaina sighed, looking down at her hands. “Lumbridge will always be home to me, but I’m not sure there’s enough space for my pets there, or that my brother could help take care of them…”

“What’s your brother like?” Julia asked, but Amalie shook her head. “Leave her in peace—we shouldn’t keep her waiting! Come now, we’d best tell the wizards the good news!” She nodded to Jaina. “Travel safely, and remember to visit the guild when you come back!”

“Bye, Miss Jaina!” Julia waved as her mother began to lead her away. “See you soon!”

When they had gone, Jaina resumed looking for her bag, finally finding it hung over the stair-rail. She had no idea why it was there or how it had gotten there, but at least now she could pack.

As she returned to her room, however, she found herself being suddenly snatched from where she stood and pulled into a tight, warm hug. She gave a startled yelp, and it took her a moment to fully register what had happened.

“I don’t know whether I should be surprised or relieved, Azzanadra,” she finally said, looking up at the familiar red-haired man holding her. His hair and beard looked messier than usual, and his hat was askew.

“Jaina, are you alright?” Azzanadra frowned, eyeing her as he straightened his hat. “Your disappearance worried me greatly, moreso when one of my contacts reported that you were in a magical sleep…”

“I was going to visit you to explain exactly that,” she said. “It seems you were a step ahead of me there…”

“My contact’s message only came in this morning, so I hurried here as soon as I could. I feared the worst when I saw you were not in your bed as was reported, but…” He pulled her into a slightly tighter hug, his hand catching in her hair. “So you were here the whole time? I assume you woke shortly before I arrived.”

“Yes, sometime this morning.” She blinked, biting her lip. “I don’t know who put me to sleep or why, but my butler said it lasted at least a week…”

“You fool!” Tiny Lucien suddenly shouted from the dresser. “You dare enter a god’s throne room?”

Turning to Jaina, the little doll strode to the edge of the dresser and shook his tiny staff. “Human, why have you not yet cleaned your disgusting hair off my throne? Stop staring at that overzealous fanatic and get to work!”

“Anyway,” said Jaina, raising her voice slightly, “I think the spell was intended to wear off on its own, and I’m sure there was no memory-altering magic at work here because I know firsthand how that works… but it’s worrisome regardless, and that’s not counting all the other things I have to worry about!”

“Shhh, relax… be patient…” Guiding her to sit on the bed, Azzanadra quietly ran his hands over her shoulders, looking her over. “I do not sense any traces of the spell that was cast on you, so you are likely right in that it has worn off. As for who and why, I suspect someone may have needed you to be out of the way so that they could go through with some unsavory deed unhindered.” He raised an eyebrow. “Could the traitors have been plotting something? But this seems too subtle for them… perhaps a lesser servant of Zamorak’s, then?”

“I removed the spell!” Tiny Lucien insisted, banging his tiny staff on the dresser. “I woke up the human easily, so that she could finally clean my throne! The sleep magic was no match for my tiny power!”

Jaina looked thoughtful. “I’m not saying we should rule them out, but… they don’t exactly strike me as the type to relax and bathe at a spa resort owned by ogresses, even for secret plotting. That’s the last place I remember being before I woke up, but everything after I parted ways with my friend is a haze…”

“It is indeed highly unlikely they would go there,” Azzanadra said, looking slightly off-put. “I have only heard of the place from Soran. It sounds to me like a much less clean imitation of the baths in Senntisten, and I can’t say I understand the appeal of sitting in mud.”

“It’s supposed to be good for your skin, but I wouldn’t want to go in the mud either. Or the Bandos pool, for that matter.” Jaina winced, shuddering at the thought. “I prefer the salt-water spring. Less sticky and slimy, and doesn’t smell bad either.”

She looked over at him curiously. “What were the baths like?”

“The baths in Senntisten were not solely for cleaning up,” he explained. “They were places to meet, have various discussions, and occasionally even make important decisions—I sometimes conducted church business with my fellow priests at the baths. The temples had many communal baths, and there were several other public baths around the city. There were separate ones for males and females, as well as for children and adults. In the later years of the empire, humans were generally expected to wear towels at all times; not so much in the earlier years—I’m not sure quite how that came about.”

Seeing her reddening cheeks, he raised an eyebrow once more. “You seem discomforted by the idea.”

She nodded emphatically. “Aside from the Oo’glog spa pools, no one bathes together after the age of three—and if you do share a bath with someone, casual conversation is going to be the last thing on your mind…” Her cheeks flared an even brighter red. “Not that I could reasonably do that; my bathtub is very small and only has room for me…”

Grinning awkwardly, she quickly decided to change the subject. “A-anyway, I-I’m not really sure I should look into the cause right away… there are others who will be worried about me, and we do have plans I need to catch up on...” Her voice was growing frantic. “But if there really is something drastic going on, and it’s connected to my being put to sleep, and I don’t find out about it right away… and then something terrible happens because I put it off… I…”

Suddenly she turned away from him and flung herself facedown on the bed, letting out a pained shriek. “I don’t know what to do!” she wailed, burying her face in a pillow.

The sharp scream so startled Tiny Lucien that he stumbled and fell into the washing bowl, and now the little doll was splashing about indignantly, struggling to get out. “You can start by getting me out of here!”

Jaina stayed there unmoving for a long moment, quietly crying into the pillow. Something in her had just snapped at that moment; all she wanted to do was cry until the waterworks had dried up. Perhaps then she could think clearly again. But it wouldn’t do for Azzanadra to see her like this, not again… she had already made a fool of herself trying to explain what Sliske had done after the ritual, but at least then she’d had more of a reason for it.

The pillow felt damp and cold against her face as she continued to cry, but then she felt a warm, strong hand on her shoulder. Slowly she looked up, her eyes red and puffy and her cheeks tear-stained.

Guiding Jaina back into a sitting position, Azzanadra pulled her closer and cradled her cheek. He had resumed his true form, and she couldn’t help but smile slightly at the sight.

“You shouldn’t let yourself become so frightened or upset,” he whispered, brushing a tear from her eye. “It will do you more harm than good. For the moment I am only glad that you are well and in one piece—a short period of respite may be more worth it than you realize.”

“Are you saying I should rest?” Jaina blinked, shaking her head. “I think I’ve rested quite long enough…”

“I simply mean that you should set aside your worries for a short time,” Azzanadra said, stroking her hair. “Shall I stay with you for the evening as long as I can? I have greatly missed your company.”

She slowly nodded and slid over to hug him. “Y-yes… I would like that very much…” Resting her head on his shoulder, she gave a contented sigh. “I missed you too…”

A little reluctant to let him go, she stood up and smoothed her skirt. “You wouldn’t mind if I show you around again, would you? I mean, we’ll be seeing quite a bit more of each other soon enough, I hope… And we should go over our plans again…”

“Indeed, there are still some rooms you haven’t shown me yet,” Azzanadra said, slowly rising as well. “For instance, I noticed a stairway leading underground…”

“The basement?” Jaina smiled awkwardly and laughed. “I haven’t really put anything in there—I never knew what to do with it exactly!”

She offered him an arm, which he accepted as he followed her to the door. “Well, I suppose you might perhaps want me to put a shrine to Zaros there, but that will have to wait…”

“Human, where are you going—I told you to get me out of here!” Tiny Lucien shouted, splashing around in the washing bowl. “I demand you assist me at once! You dare ignore a god?”

The answer came in the form of the door shutting as the two made their way downstairs, paying the unfortunate doll no heed.

~***~

“You certainly have quite the collection of books here, my dear,” Azzanadra said, looking over one of the bookcases that lined the parlor walls. “I hadn’t stopped to notice your little library before.”

“I do collect a lot of them,” said Jaina, sitting up straighter in her chair. “I’ve always liked books—I was the sort who learned to read before I learned to talk. That was actually mostly how I studied magic—I read up on the spells in my free time and then practiced them whenever I could, while the others just seemed to wait for Tutor Mikasi’s lessons at school.”

“You were fortunate to have such books available to you,” he remarked. “On Freneskae, we often had to learn magic through trial and error—no writing of any kind, and there was only so much time for lessons. When we first saw writing, most of the tribe was greatly puzzled as to what the strange markings on the scrolls were for, and just as confused when the Menaphite scribes asked how to spell our names—Oh! What’s this?” Pulling out a small, thin volume labeled “Zemouregal’s notes,” he looked it over curiously. “Where did you find these?”

Jaina had to lean forward to see the book in question. “Oh, those? They were in Zemouregal’s basement. Funny you should speak of your name being hard to spell—I have to admit, I couldn’t spell it either until I found those…” She smiled awkwardly, thinking of the times she’d struggled to spell it in her journal.

“You could have asked one of the desert faithful if you wished, silly,” Azzanadra pointed out, and turned his attention to the notes once more. “This is quite a find. Do you mind if I read them, and some of these other books as well?”

“Oh, not at all!” She smiled brightly his way. “Books were made to be read, after all.”

Stretching her legs a bit, she picked up the book she’d been reading on her time off in the evenings, _The Serpent’s Coils._ It was just one of several books that had come out not long after her acceptance to the Legends’ Guild, with a heroine that was an obvious stand-in for her—that sort of thing was always interesting to read, if usually rather pulpy.

Where she had left off, the book’s heroine, Janni Pravada, “a sorceress of some repute and wielder of three different spellbooks,” had stumbled across the village of Zul-Andra, where a group of gnomes (and a few elves and captured Tyras guards) had formed a creepy cult that worshipped the titular serpent—Zulrah—as a god. Apparently it demanded sacrifices frequently, and the next one in line was a little boy, so Janni had pleaded to go in his place.

Last time Jaina had put the book down before she could finish the chapter, as a scene describing how the cult’s high priestess had deliberately fed her young son to the serpent had positively unsettled her. Perhaps it was foolish to feel like that about a work of fiction, when she’d seen her fair share of terrible things for real… but still, even to read something like that, to imagine a mother could do such a thing to a child, her own child… it made her skin crawl and a chill go down her spine. A mother was meant to protect and care for her children, not coldly and calculatingly bring harm to them.

Still, she was curious enough to read on, see how the confrontation with Zulrah would go and how it might be defeated—although Janni Pravada’s outfit on the cover looked utterly embarrassing and made it hard to take the story seriously. Not that she could take it seriously anyway; why would anything live in the Poison Waste, and there was no way Zul-Andra could come to be either because why would presumably Arposandran gnomes live on the outskirts of Isafdar instead of in Arposandra? Well, she couldn’t blame the author of a pulp adventure novel for not knowing some things she did.

Jaina let herself get lost in the book once more—she had to admit, the description of the Poison Waste was vivid and accurate enough to bring to mind having crossed it for real, although jumping from island to island was of course far different from riding in a boat. The chapter ended with Janni Pravada arriving at a shrine in the middle of the swamp and watching the boat leave as she was left to face Zulrah alone… but then the sound of Azzanadra’s voice suddenly snapped Jaina back to reality before she could read on.

“This book! It seems to contain a memory of one of the most troubled times in my life…” He was pulling a few more books off the shelf to examine them more closely. “And these seem to be memories of my kin, even of some who have since faced the void… How? Who could have…”

His gaze fell squarely on her. “Jaina, how did you come across these?”

Jaina’s heart sank like a stone, and her throat immediately felt dry. Even without all the panic and worries that had been clouding her mind, she’d forgotten about that…

What could she do? What should she say? As much as she wanted to tell him the truth, she feared what might happen if she tried to breach that contract—and she had given her word to Kharshai when she agreed to it anyway; contract or no contract, it would be going back on her word…

“Jaina, is something the matter?” Setting the books down, Azzanadra crossed to her side, his expression unreadable and unsettling. “Are you hesitant to answer?”

She slowly rose, shivering and wringing her hands, the sound of her heart pounding a deafening roar in her ears. “A-ah… I—I can’t…”

“Jaina, please.” Azzanadra put one hand on her shoulder and tilted her chin up with the other so that she met his gaze. His touch was gentle, but his tone was calm yet severe. “That was a memory of one of the darkest periods I have ever had in my life, one I did not wish to relive, and somehow you have it in a book. You must tell me where and how you found it!”

Seeing the look in his eyes, Jaina knew he was right—bad as it would be to go back on her word, it would be worse to lie to her beloved about something like this, to make it look like she’d been up to something underhanded. She didn’t know if it would work, but she had to try.

“I—I wasn’t… I didn’t mean… I—Aaaaah!”

She let out an agonized scream as a painful shockwave tore through her, and immediately collapsed face forward into his chest. For the moment she could only stand there shivering, unable to move or speak.

“Jaina!” Quickly he lifted her up, looking her over worriedly. “What happened? Are you badly hurt? Who did this to you?”

She looked up weakly, her eyes watery from the pain, her breathing accompanied by little whimpers in between each breath. It took her a moment before she managed to gasp out “Con… tract…” only to scream again as another jolt of pain shocked her.

“I see… Shhh, you mustn’t hurt yourself any further… I swear, when I find whoever did this to you…”

A pale green glow surrounded his hand as he cradled her forehead, and she felt the pain slowly start to fade. She gazed quietly up at him, trying to blink away the tears, until it gradually all subsided.

“Perhaps whoever got you to sign this contract was also responsible for putting you to sleep…” Azzanadra shook his head, his face resolutely serious. “This is a grave matter indeed! We must bring you before Zaros immediately.”

Before Jaina even had a chance to nod in agreement, she heard a sudden crash from the front door and the loud clanking of plate armor as a young man dashed into the parlor, brandishing a large heavy sword.

“Hey! You’re not gonna sacrifice my sister to your dark god, you… you…” The blond-haired youth blinked and paused a moment to stare. “What even are you?”

He took a step closer, his gray eyes sharply narrowed as he readied his sword for an attack. “Doesn’t matter—whatever you are, unhand my sister!”

Jaina sat bolt upright, her eyes wide in alarm. “Ape Face! Put your sword away now!”

“What do you mean, put my sword away?” he exclaimed, looking at her in disbelief. “Can’t you see I’m trying to rescue you here?”

“I’m not currently in need of rescuing, Ape Face, and I can assure you that my god doesn’t demand human sacrifices. I haven’t even heard of any god who—“

“But there’s an evil wizard thing right there, and he’s got you in his clutches!” Her brother pointed to Azzanadra, his hand shaking a bit as he did. “Someone has to rescue you before he does something terrible to you! I’m sure he’s the one who put that sleep curse on you!”

Azzanadra sighed and shook his head, his brow furrowed slightly. “I can hear everything you’re saying, young man.”

“My name’s Henry Kyle Katarn and I’m the best warrior in Lumbridge!” The youth waved his sword, trying to do his best menacing glare. “Unhand my sister now, or you’re going to taste my blade!”

“Ape Face, you dunderhead! You shouldn’t casually threaten a Mahjarrat like that!” Jaina stared at her brother as though he’d suddenly sprouted watermelons from his ears. “Besides, if he were going to harm me, he would have done so long before now.”

“Okay, seriously, Jaina, are you crazy? You say he’s a Mahja-thing, and you don’t even sound a little bit worried about it!” Henry was staring at her blankly, his mouth agape. “Is there any reason you’re not scared of this guy, or trying to fight back, or anything? Aren’t the Mahja-things supposed to be these dangerous evil shapeshifters with ugly skull heads?”

“It’s Mahjarrat, and they’re not always all skeletal,” Jaina snapped, scowling in the direction of the sword. “Put your sword away, and I’ll explain everything to you, if you promise to keep quiet about it!”

“Why do I have to keep quiet?” Henry demanded. “What if it’s a trap, and he does some weird dark magic when I let my—”

“I said put your sword away!” Her tone was sharp and insistent, and he made a small squeak as he reluctantly sheathed his sword behind his back.

She was feeling a bit calmer now that her brother had finally listened to her, and she turned her gaze back to Azzanadra. “I think I can stand again; you can put me down now…”

He nodded quietly and placed her down onto her feet, though he kept one arm protectively around her. Shaking a bit, she swallowed nervously and regained her composure before she spoke. “Now, you have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone about what I’m about to explain—this is a secret and it stays strictly between you and me, understand?”

“But why do I have to keep it secret?” Henry asked again. “Your strange god you don’t want me to talk about is one thing, but a Mahja-thing is a whole other matter! Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

“Only if you promise,” Jaina replied firmly. “It’s important that I can trust you with my secrets before I go telling them!”

Henry sighed and hung his head, looking exasperated. “Okay, okay, I promise! Now can you please tell me what’s going on here?”

Jaina hesitated, feeling a lump rise in her throat. No, she couldn’t be nervous now; he had given his word, and her best option was to be honest. “This isn’t going to be easy to say… and it would likely be much harder to explain if Mother and Father still lived… But I do owe it to you to tell the truth…”

She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, meeting her brother’s gaze. “Azzanadra is no mere Mahjarrat, but the first and foremost of my lord Zaros’ faithful. He is also my beloved—I have been seeing him since Saradomin and Zamorak were in our hometown making a mess of it. Yes, I’m still angry about that, though that’s another matter.”

“You fell in love with a Mahja-thing?” Henry’s tone was the same sort that someone might use when asking if someone had made a pact with a demon or bought a mansion in the Wilderness. “But how could you even—don’t you know how fearsome and dangerous they’re supposed to be? Don’t you know what kind of weird dark magics they’re supposed to be capable of? What about Brand? What happened to your love for him?”

Instantly Jaina’s face contorted in shock, and she stared at him with wide eyes that were quickly filling with tears. “Just because Brand is gone doesn’t mean I no longer love him!” she shot back, her voice pained. “I promised myself—promised Father Vargas—that I would never forget him! And even though my lord teaches that revenge is pointless, I still seek to wipe out every last dagannoth left alive!”

She did her best to dry her tears. “Oh, and before you say something rude again, Azzanadra also happens to be the most powerful of his kind, and once ruled an entire empire. You will speak to him with the respect he is due!”

“Most… powerful…” Henry’s face went white, and he gulped nervously and took a step back. “I-I’m sorry, sir, please don’t hurt me, sir…”

“I can understand your fear,” Azzanadra said, “but I have no wish or reason to harm you, or your sister.” He placed his hand on Jaina’s shoulder. “She does exaggerate slightly; I was merely my lord’s right hand, performing the duties of leadership in his name… but I digress. Go on, Jaina.”

“Why did you fall in love with him?” Henry asked. “Did he teach you about your strange dark god?”

“More than just that,” Jaina answered, a small smile flickering across her face. “He was kind enough to grant me knowledge of ancient magic as a thank you for freeing him. You didn’t think I devised my ice spells by myself, did you?”

“Well, no, actually… doesn’t it take years to make new spells?” Henry frowned and chewed his lip. “But I thought you found a dusty old spellbook or scroll somewhere and shared it with people…” When she shook her head, he blinked and shrugged his shoulders before he spoke up again. “Anyway, what do you mean you rescued him? If he’s so powerful, why would he need to be rescued? Weren’t you afraid when you first saw him? …Don’t take that the wrong way, sir; you just happen to look intimidating…”

“All I knew when I rescued him was that he was a hero in distress and he needed my help,” said Jaina, “and he certainly looked like it when I first saw him… as for why he was trapped, I believe the Zamorakians used trickery to do that, but that’s a story for another time. Anyway, I went on to help him with a few more things, and he told me about Zaros, about what things were like before the God Wars, even a little about the Mahjarrat… it was fascinating! It wasn’t long before we were friends, but I didn’t think he would consider me more than a friend… What I noticed most was how much he believed in me, trusted in me, admired my skill, even though I was only a common-born human mage from Lumbridge…”

Henry looked skeptical, but this time he paused to reconsider before he said anything. “But… what happened to Dr. Naba-Ginger?”

“You look upon him now,” Azzanadra chimed in. “You did say you find my true appearance intimidating—naturally, I had to take a form that would not frighten humans, and would allow me to blend in while I carried on my lord’s work.”

“Yes, I did know he was a Mahjarrat the whole time,” Jaina added. “Though I have always found his human form quite handsome too…”

Henry just stared, dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open. He seemed to be at a loss for words.

Jaina finally broke the silence. “I know you promised already, but I feel like I should ask again—you’re not going to tell anyone about any of this, yes?”

“I—I won’t,” he said shakily, “but I’m still worried about you—are you sure this is a good idea? You’re the only family I have left; if something bad happened…”

“Danger has a habit of finding me, I’m afraid,” she remarked, “but I’m still in one piece. There are many individuals you and I should be worried about, but Azzanadra isn’t one of them, and I know he isn’t responsible for the sleep thing either. That was actually why he suggested we consult Zaros—to help find out who might’ve actually done it…”

She frowned, shifting her leg a bit. “Though you’re right; we don’t see all that much of each other… We should try to become closer; whatever Father and Mother would have thought of me now, they would not have wanted us to be like strangers to one another…”

She straightened up suddenly as a thought crossed her mind. “Oh, by the way, I was going to ask you this anyway… the Mahjarrat do not marry, but he has decided to make an exception for me… and, well, I’d really like for you to come… Would you be willing to please hand me off in Father’s absence?”

“B-bluh?” This time, rather than merely staring in disbelief, Henry fainted dead away.

It took Jaina shaking his shoulders—which was easier said than done, given his bulky chestplate—to get him to snap out of it, and when he did, he could only splutter for a little bit before managing to get any words out. “Married? Butbutbut… he’s so old! And a Mahja-thing! And… oh good Guthix I don’t wanna imagine that!” He cringed, looking a bit green in the face.

“I would very much appreciate it if you didn’t,” said Jaina, helping him up. “Please, Ape Face? It would mean a lot to me to have you there, even if you’re not happy with us…”

Henry seemed to consider this, and was quiet for a minute before nodding reluctantly. “Oh, alright—I’ll be there, and I’ll hand you off in place of Father! It’s the least I can do for you…” He straightened up a bit. “Wait, where and when is it even going to be?”

“In a week’s time, I believe? Wait…” Jaina closed her eyes, mentally calculating the days she’d missed. “I think it’s in—E-eh? Three days? Oh my Zaros… I didn’t realize…”

It was her turn to faint, although Azzanadra was thankfully there to catch her.

~***~

When she got back from the morning meeting at the Legends’ Guild the following afternoon, Jaina squeezed through her bedroom window to see that she had guests—very unexpected guests. Two desert bandit women, their hoods off for a change, smiled at her from where they stood beside a familiar dancer, who looked considerably less happy.

“At last, you’re here,” Char said flatly, her eyes fixed on Jaina. “Took you long enough.”

“Eh?” Jaina stared at her in confusion. “What brings you to my home?”

The bandit women squirmed and squealed excitedly, and Char motioned to a sewing kit and some rolls of fine fabric on the bed. “We are going to make you a dress!”

Jaina felt her face grow hot as she looked at the rolls of fabric—Kharidian silk by the looks of it, pink, red, and four different shades of purple—and she wrung her hands, her awkward grin hurting her cheeks a bit. “R-really, you don’t have to… I know how to make clothes…”

“You need a suitable dress,” said Char pointedly, shaking her head as she gestured to Jaina’s silvery-blue overcoat and magician’s dress. “Look at you—you can’t get married dressed like that!”

Jaina tensed up, her face growing even hotter as she remembered her wedding day. “Um, I kind of did…”

“Just come over here!” Char beckoned impatiently, her eyes slightly narrowed. “The sooner you have a proper dress, the better.”

Jaina nodded nervously and came closer, reluctantly slipping off her bag and overcoat. The two bandit women proceeded to help her undress, and then one of them started to measure her while the other quickly scribbled the measurements on a worn-looking papyrus.

“Let’s make one thing clear,” Char said severely, her voice rather cold for someone with a talent for fire. “This is the first opportunity to dance for my lord I have had in a long time. As you will be in his presence, it is important that everything be proper—as close to the way it was done in the empire as possible. I don’t want you bumbling or spoiling anything, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am—I mean, Char,” Jaina stammered, feeling a cold sweat on her brow. The dancer wasn’t nearly as terrifying as Nex, but she was quite fearsome in her own right.

As the bandit women took her measurements, Jaina looked in the mirror and then down at herself, her eyes falling on the thin, red scar on her lower stomach. She had only noticed it last night, before she went to bed—and if she hadn’t burned herself out from worrying about everything else, she might have lost a lot of sleep wondering about it. Where had she gotten it? She didn’t remember getting it from being injured… so did it have anything to do with her long sleep? Why would whoever had cast the sleep spell want to slice her stomach open? The intent certainly hadn’t been to kill her… Oh, how she hoped none of her insides had been torn out while she wasn’t looking!

She didn’t have long to dwell on it, though, as the bandit women had finished the measurements and were now each holding up two different bolts of purple cloth. “Which shade would you prefer?” the first asked quietly.

Jaina took a moment to look over all four, and then decided on one that was deep violet, very similar in color to that exquisite top Azzanadra had given her. The pair wasted no time in setting to work, Char mostly overseeing them, though she did do her fair share of checking fabric measurements and sticking pins here and there.

Watching the pieces of the dress slowly take form, Jaina wanted to do some of the work herself, though she didn’t want to bump into the women, and Char likely wouldn’t let her. Of course she wanted to point out that she’d be the one to wear the dress and thus naturally wanted to have a part in making it, but Char seemed to think that she couldn’t be trusted with even that.

She couldn’t go back to thinking about the scar or the sleep spell, as the two women decided to make small talk with her—twittering excitedly about what a wonderful day she had to look forward to, how they would have loved to be in her place, how it was such a joy to help make her look amazing for Azzanadra. They were talking so fast she could barely get a word in edgewise.

“Will either of you be attending?” she finally managed to ask.

“Oh, I hope we’ll be allowed to,” one of them said. “We wanted to tell our families the good news, but Eblis says that Lord Azzanadra asked that the ceremony be small and secret…”

“If I were to come, I would have to bring my baby girl along,” the second murmured. “She can be rather fussy at times, though… I’m not sure the Great Lord himself would appreciate her crying…”

“My lord has more important things to be worried about than a baby crying,” Char pointed out. “Let’s see, the skirt looks long enough, but…”

It wasn’t long before there was a plain, unfinished dress loosely stitched together, and Jaina was motioned over to have it pulled over her head. The two women ushered her over to the mirror so she could see it as they looked it over.

“Not bad, but it looks too plain,” the first remarked. “It will need some sort of adornments…”

“You’ve been rather quiet,” said the other. “How do you want the sleeves to be? What about the neckline? What else should be on it—a belt, trim, beads, embroidery?”

“Um… the neckline should be reasonably high but not too high, and detached sleeves are kind of cute…” Jaina frowned, eyeing her reflection in the mirror. “I’d like it to be fairly simple, not too overloaded…”

“But it can’t be this plain,” the first woman insisted. “You need to look elegant! Eye-catching! Stunning enough to turn every head in the temple as you walk in!”

“I know,” Jaina said, nodding to the second woman, who was measuring where the neckline would be. “I just don’t want to overdo it, you know?”

The pair set to work once more, one working on the neckline and the other on a sleeve, and Char nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, it’s starting to look suitable… Now for the veil…”

“Do I really need one?” Jaina asked. “I’d rather not—ow!” She winced a little from having been poked inadvertently with a pin. “I’d rather not hide my hair…”

Char shook her head disapprovingly. “I told you, this is going to be a proper Zarosian wedding, so you need to look like a proper bride! Red veil, red shoes!”

One of the women stopped suddenly to go look through Jaina’s closet, hurrying back over with a pair of red silken slippers that had yet to be worn in hand. “I found some! These look very suitable!”

Char looked a bit surprised, but she nodded in approval. “I hadn’t expected you to have those, given what your usual wardrobe looks like.”

Jaina had almost forgotten that pair of shoes, given that she’d never found a chance or a reason to wear them. She’d received them as a gift for her sixteenth birthday, shortly before she’d left Yanille to go to adventuring school, from her Aunt Shada, who had been hopeful that she might one day dance in them. Of course, she’d gotten her magic bag that very same birthday, so the lovely red shoes had always been a little underappreciated.

How long had it been since she’d heard from Aunt Shada anyway? Although the neighbors had mentioned her moving to Ardougne to get away from the ogres, Jaina had neither heard from her nor seen her since leaving. She wasn’t sure if she should be surprised; Father and Aunt Shada hadn’t been that close—and both her cousins already lived in Ardougne anyway, so Aunt Shada had probably wanted to be near them again. She’d never met her cousins; all she knew was that they were a few years older than she was and had different fathers.

Well, it seemed Aunt Shada’s wish would come true… although Jaina wasn’t sure the way it would come true would please her aunt very much. Then again, the shoes did rather fit the occasion—she’d feared damaging them, not unlike Azzanadra’s shirt, but like the shirt, they were made to be worn.

She intended to try the slippers on, but the two women were still hard at work putting the finishing touches on the neckline and sleeves, and Char was bringing over a roll of partially transparent red fabric that matched the shoes. Draping some of it neatly over Jaina’s head, she adjusted it a few times before quietly cutting a sizable part, with the resulting veil coming down to just below the shoulders.

“Now we have a veil, and this is exactly how you’ll wear it,” she said, motioning to Jaina’s reflection in the mirror. “If it slips too much, a few pins should hold it in place.”

Jaina frowned uncertainly at her mirror image. The veil didn’t hide her hair completely, and the way it seemed to shimmer was surprisingly lovely, but she still wasn’t sure she wanted to wear it.

“I-it is actually kind of pretty… but it still hides my hair, and it feels strange to wear it… I was going to just wear a wreath of flowers…”

“I danced at many weddings back in the day,” Char pointed out. “It was not as much a joy as dancing for my lord, but I certainly know what I’m doing.”

Jaina still wished the dancer were a little less overbearing, but she had to admit that she did know better. Besides, she was an ally and a friend—well, a friend in the most merciful sense of the word, anyway—and she at least ought to trust her, even if that trust wasn’t returned.

The lively chatter of the bandit women made the rest of the dressmaking go by more quickly, and when the last finishing touches were added, the pair excitedly urged Jaina to put the red shoes on and look in the mirror. She did so, relieved that the slippers fit and felt soft and comfortable—and her eyes widened in surprise when she looked in the mirror.

The dress was accented with shades of pink and small strands of silver on the sleeves, neckline, and hem, and a silver-and-gold-trimmed lavender strip of fabric, bearing four diamond shapes—red, pale blue, gray, and black—hung prominently in the middle of the skirt. A small symbol of Zaros adorned each of the ends of the sleeves, the neckline, and the waistline, and the four-diamond pattern featured prominently on the bodice alongside pretty swirl accents.

“Oh…” Jaina found herself at a loss for words. She definitely couldn’t have made something like this on her own… and she couldn’t have asked for something more fitting to wear.

“I-it’s… I… why…” She spluttered a bit, trying to express something about how impressive it looked. “I… thank you so much… I-I couldn’t have imagined…”

“I shall be holding onto it for you until the wedding day comes,” said Char, looking slightly less displeased than usual. “Can’t have Azzanadra seeing it, after all.”

“Y-yes…” Jaina nodded, a little reluctantly. “I really do owe you one—” she nodded nervously to Char and swallowed before she continued— “Oh, and I-I look forward to seeing your dancing too…”

“I pray that my lord does as well.” Char’s voice seemed a bit sad and longing, but her expression quickly grew more serious. “Just take care not to bumble anything, understand? Oh, and I was told to tell you to keep an eye out for a surprise in your basement…”

“Yes, I know; I don’t even want to mess anything up…” Jaina straightened up suddenly. “A surprise? In my basement? But…”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, yes?” Char raised an eyebrow. “You will have time to see for yourself soon enough.”

Jaina was already wondering about what might be in her basement, and how Char might know about it. She could only hope that the surprise wouldn’t be an unpleasant one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now begins one of the sillier, fluffier installments in my little series! I must credit my best friend Zanna-chan for this fic coming into being--essentially, it entails our combined ideas. Having a wedding was her idea; otherwise I probably would have had Jaina simply accept that Mahjarrat don't marry.
> 
> I decided to flesh out some of the Yanille residents, as you can see--there is probably more to them than what we see in game! Yes, Julia is named after Julia Child. Interesting side characters do help liven up a story, and I hope I succeeded at that!
> 
> The book Jaina was reading does indeed draw from 2007scape content... Although I despise 07scape and think that it's a graphical eyesore made solely to pander to whiny nostalgia-obsessed morons, and I was pretty angry about any of its content getting lore at all (seriously, no one plays 07scape for lore) especially when Araxxor was poofed out of nowhere, the story behind the snake boss thing was... eye-catching enough to inspire me to write in a little shout-out there. (And I felt sorry for the Old School dev team's writers, as nobody who hunts that boss is even going to care about the lore behind it so long as they get shinies.)
> 
> I'm not sure if the contract defense mechanism seems too harsh for Kharshai, or if he even knew about it; I suspect he didn't take it into consideration. The reason I wrote it the way I did was because something lighter wouldn't quite have the impact I was going for.
> 
> Ah, Char... she's almost as hard to write as Sliske, and she was partly tricky because I didn't want it to look like I was dumping on her. She's a good character, after all! But I wouldn't be writing her in-character if she liked the World Guardian, and it's a given anyway that not everyone is going to like the main character. (Why she doesn't like the WG is pretty ambiguous though, and I leave her reasons up to interpretation.)
> 
> Girly points to me for writing a dressmaking scene! It occurs to me awhile after writing this that the particular dress design I described wouldn't be universally worn for the entire history of the empire, and it probably would have only been reasonably worn by high-class brides. It was nonetheless inspired by Roman wedding dresses, which were white with an orange veil.
> 
> Onward to the next part!


	2. Chapter 2

She inclined her head as she approached the altar, and curtsied deeply when she came before it. It still felt strange to stand in the presence of a god, as well as somewhat nerve-wracking.

She’d intended to travel to the sanctum, but Azzanadra wouldn’t hear of it—he’d insisted she see Zaros right away, and that travel through the World Gate would take too much time. He’d had a point; it was time-consuming, and risky, and it was better not to go there any more than she absolutely had to.

“World Guardian.” Zaros’ voice, calm and even, still managed to instill a sense of awe. “Azzanadra has told me of the magic that has affected you—what is it that you remember? Tell me as much as you can.”

Jaina nodded and did so, making sure to mention the scar on her stomach as well, though she tried to keep it as brief as possible. “I only hope all my insides are still there, and that there isn’t something drastic going on that required me to be out of the way,” she finally finished, her throat hurting a bit.

There was a short pause before Zaros spoke. “It is unlikely that the latter is so; otherwise your memory would have been deliberately tampered with. I suspect your forgetfulness was merely a side effect, presumably unintended, of what happened to you during the sleep. As for the scar, it explains much… you likely were experimented on in some way.”

“What?” Azzanadra’s eyes narrowed sharply, his tone half furious, half worried. “Who would… why would… My lord, I pray it isn’t true…”

“We do not yet know if it is, or what the nature of the experiment is,” Zaros pointed out, and turned back to Jaina. “I could perhaps recover missing details from your subconscious, if you would briefly allow me into your mind. These would only be events that you witnessed, not anything that occurred while you were asleep—the details are, however, likely to be substantial knowledge.”

Jaina wrung her hands. Part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but if she had been experimented on, she definitely should know—her insides being intact and unaltered was something very important, and if it was particularly bad, what she didn’t know might kill her.

“Very well,” she said, shifting nervously where she stood. “I hope this works…”

Zaros seemed to float towards her and placed a crystal hand upon her head, and she felt a strange, imposing presence fill her mind. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to the way this felt.

She didn’t have long to dwell on it before the memory of parting with Zanik came to mind, and soon an unpleasantly familiar face did as well. A shiver ran down her spine at the mental image of Sliske, and she bit back the curse that had formed on her tongue and paid attention.

Her memory was still hazy; she couldn’t remember the conversation, but at least now she knew he was responsible—and as the memory progressed, she shivered more intensely as she saw that he had indeed done some kind of experiment. She couldn’t make out any sharp objects or surgical tools before the memory faded, but she did notice all the divination energy he’d been using.

She was still shaking and shivering with cold when Zaros’ presence withdrew from her mind, and the Empty Lord floated over behind the altar. “Sliske,” he said quietly. “He experimented with residual Guthixian energies on the World Guardian.”

“Sliske!” Azzanadra looked ready to break something. “I swear, if he’s done anything to harm her… his face will be little more than a puddle, and his head will not sit on his shoulders for much longer!”

“Patience, Azzanadra. We must consider what we know, what the consequences will be, and what her best decision is from here—her continued well-being is more important than revenge.” Zaros’ voice remained level and calm as he nodded to Jaina again. “What do you make of what you recall of Sliske’s experiment, World Guardian?”

Jaina shifted uncomfortably and wrung her hands. “I don’t know… the energies drawn from the wisps do have the power to transmute objects, but wouldn’t transmuting someone’s internal organs cause death?”

“He did no such thing,” Zaros said. “I sensed a large concentration of those Guthixian energies within you, and I still feel it—he seems to have simply implanted the energies. All of your body’s organs and functions appeared to be intact and working correctly; nothing was amiss there. However, there was a foreign object of some kind near that concentration of energies…”

Jaina straightened up, her eyes wide with worry. “What kind of object was it? Could you tell?”

Zaros nodded. “It was clearly artificial, and seemed to be containing the energies within you. He likely placed it there to prevent you from channeling that power—even I could not draw upon the energy without surgically removing the object, although something from inside you possibly could.”

Jaina winced, trying not to shudder at the idea. “With all due respect, my lord, I would much prefer not to be subjected to surgery unless absolutely necessary…”

“Is she at risk of harm, my lord?” Azzanadra chimed in, looking puzzled and worried. “What was Sliske trying to accomplish?”

“He may have wished to test how divine energy affects her, and if she was capable of containing it,” Zaros said, his eight eyes still fixed on Jaina. “Her powers as World Guardian seem to be a great fascination of his, from what we have gathered. She appears to be in no danger; the energies she contains are latent and stable, however, she must still learn of his reasons for doing this herself.”

Jaina felt her heart sinking. “Does that mean I have to wait for him to come find me?”

“I’m afraid so,” Azzanadra said, shaking his head sadly. “You’re still only likely to find him if he wants to be found—and I have no doubt he will seek you out, though I do not know where or when.”

“When you do encounter him, be on your guard,” Zaros warned. “He may wish to experiment further, and that is likely to put you at greater risk.”

“Yes, my lord…” Jaina reluctantly nodded, shivering at the thought of her next meeting with Sliske. Well, at least it wasn’t as bad as it could have been… or at least it seemed that way, anyway.

~***~

It wouldn’t do her any good to wait around wondering if Sliske might show up, not when she had important things to finish up and only two more days left to do so. That would have to wait till morning; she felt a little too tired from the day’s adventuring to worry about discreet travel plans or trying to write a suitable vow—though she could spare a moment to check what might be in her basement.

As she circled around the back of the house to climb up to her bedroom, Jaina saw something move in the window. She spotted a bearded desert bandit inside by the basement stairs, wearing a dirty brown apron. He seemed to be talking to Azzanadra about something, though she couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Silently she prayed that no one else would walk around the back as she climbed in her window and shut it behind her. Slipping off her bag, she noticed a puddle beside her dresser and quickly hurried over to see what had happened.

The washing bowl had been flipped over, and it was shaking where it sat. “Let me out!” came an indignant voice, and the bowl shook harder.

Jaina picked up the bowl and set it back upright, and Tiny Lucien tumbled off the dresser and into the puddle. Scrambling to his feet, he grabbed his tiny staff and scowled up at her. “Now I’m all wet, and the water’s cold! Oh, this is humiliating!”

“Oh, you,” Jaina said, and deftly picked up the little doll by the collar. “Come along, you’ve been in my room long enough.”

“You dare make demands of a god?” Tiny Lucien demanded. “Unhand me at once!”

He kept squirming and ranting as he was carried, dangling by the scruff of the neck, all the way downstairs. Jaina tossed him unceremoniously into the menagerie for TzRek-Jad to pounce on before heading over to the basement stairs.

The bandit workman almost bumped into her as she approached the stairs, and he smiled shakily and bowed his head as he stepped back. “My apologies, lady; I was only doing some last-minute checks! I hope that our handiwork will please you.”

“So you were working on the surprise I’ve heard about?” Jaina peeked down the stairs, eyeing the basement door. “I have very much wanted to see it… What would be a reasonable sum for your efforts?”

“Go ahead!” The workman beamed proudly and motioned to the stairs. “Do not trouble yourself with payment; this is a gift on behalf of Lord Azzanadra. It will be payment enough to see you pleased with it!”

Jaina still thought he could use the money, but he did seem quite eager for her to see the surprise. She smiled gratefully and ventured down into the basement.

There were still crates, barrels, and boxes stacked along one wall, but where once the underground halls had been vast and empty, two unfamiliar doors now greeted her—a white door straight ahead, and a purple door to her right. She decided to peek in the purple door first, since it was closer.

A simple shrine to Zaros, not comprised of much yet except the altar, occupied the small room. There was a note on the altar, which she picked up to read; it said that there would be time to put the rest of it together soon enough. Indeed, there were several boxes and a pair of small stone blocks yet to be carved waiting in the corners of the room.

Closing the door quietly, Jaina thought about her other altar room upstairs—not that she used it for actual worship, though she still wasn’t sure she wanted to show Azzanadra. She’d never let anyone else in there before, not even the butler… No, she shouldn’t think about that now. It would be good to put together a proper shrine to Zaros, though his help would be much appreciated for that, and she might need to install a magical lock on the door in case any guests were to wander into the basement.

Curiously she headed over to the second door, and when she opened it, she couldn’t help but gasp. There, taking up most of the space in this new room, was the largest bathtub she’d ever seen. It was big enough, she surmised, to fit at least three people! There was also a small sink, a basket of soap beside the tub, and a towel rack on the wall, but it was the bathtub that stood out the most.

Jaina sat down on the side of the bathtub, wondering what it might be for—well, she noticed it seemed to be Mahjarrat-sized, or, on second thought, had space enough to just barely fit two Mahjarrat. Wait—that, or more likely… She felt her face grow red-hot as the implications finally crossed her mind.

“Oh, don’t get so embarrassed,” she muttered to herself, her face still burning. “Really, I should be used to such matters by now…”

She still had an awkward smile plastered to her face as she headed back up from the basement, and at first she could only nod to the hopeful-looking workman. It took her a couple moments before she managed to stammer in gratitude.

“Ah, you didn’t have to… this really is surprising… th-thank you for your hard work…”

“I do appreciate it, but you should thank Lord Azzanadra as well,” the workman said with a smile, brushing off his apron a little. “I shall leave the both of you in peace.”

With that he headed for the front door, and Jaina waved after him, wondering where Azzanadra was anyway. Did he have any other surprises planned for her at the moment?

She found him in the parlor, perusing one of the many bookshelves once again. He was carefully selecting three or four books off the shelf, and paused to look through one of them more closely. A sad sort of smile flickered across his face as he read.

Quietly and curiously she crossed to his side. “What’s that you’re reading?”

“I have been looking over the memories of my kin,” he replied, still focused on the book’s last few pages. “I did not think I would find one that would bring me even the slightest bit of joy, but…”

Closing the book, he set it down—she could see now that it was Akthanakos’ memory—and turned to look at her. “That contract… who could be responsible for it? My lord regrettably did not know, and I’m quite sure it’s not Sliske; he’s always known how to gather information on his own.”

“I-I regret it.” Her voice was quavering, and she felt a small burning sensation in her mouth. “I’m sorry… I meant no harm, but I never should’ve…”

“Do not hurt yourself again! I do believe you, and given what imperial contracts were like, you were very brave to try to tell the truth—but this is, unfortunately, something I must investigate on my own, when time permits. It would be wise not to speak of the matter further at the moment, for your sake.”

Jaina nodded reluctantly, her mouth still feeling like it was burning. “Yes… I wish it didn’t have to be that way… but I wish a lot of things didn’t have to be as they are…”

She pulled him into a hug, closing her eyes to revel in the magical warmth he always seemed to be radiating. As she felt his strong arms wrap around her, she couldn’t help but sigh contentedly.

When they pulled apart, Azzanadra turned to the bookshelf again. “I have yet to see much of your library—there are books here detailing matters I know little of.” He selected two new books and smiled her way. “Shall I keep you company as we read? It is the least I can do for you at the moment.”

Jaina smiled a little and nodded. “Oh, of course… let me get my book…”

She found The Serpent’s Coils on the end table where she’d left it. As she was flipping through the pages to her bookmarked spot, she suddenly felt herself being gently pulled away from where she stood, causing her to gasp and nearly drop the book. The initial surprise soon faded though, and she relaxed at his touch and allowed him to ease her down and to the floor so that they were both curled up on the rug.

“What was that for?” she asked, smoothing her skirt out a bit.

“I see no reason why we cannot sit together while reading,” Azzanadra pointed out, pulling her firmly into his lap. “I presume you have no objections to your current position?”

Jaina smiled shakily, feeling her face grow a bit hot, and shook her head. “N-no, not at all… I simply didn’t expect this…”

“Does it truly surprise you that I would want you close by?” he teased, letting his hand catch in her hair. “I have missed your touch as well as your presence, you know.”

Her face grew even hotter, and she looked up at him with a curious half-smile. “Is that what you were trying to tell me with the… additions to my basement?”

“Ah, you’ve seen the surprise?” He brushed a couple fingers across her cheek. “You did tell me that your bathtub was too small to fit more than yourself. Should you wish us to share a bath, you have only to ask—I would be happy to oblige.”

Jaina felt her heart flutter at the thought, but at the same time she couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive. Although she was getting used to their relations, she was used to letting him lead, and still felt a bit nervous at the prospect of making any kind of amorous advances herself. He knew far more what he was doing than she did… either way, she didn’t feel quite ready to think about a bath, together or otherwise, yet.

“Can we read for a little bit first? I’m almost finished with my book…”

She rested comfortably against him with her head on his chest and let herself slip back into The Serpent’s Coils. She had read a bit more before bed last night—it wasn’t too far to the end, and the climactic final battle was just around the corner too.

Where she’d left off this time, Janni Pravada had gotten a druid to make an antivenom from a few of Zulrah’s scales, which she’d managed to get the last few times she faced it—she hadn’t been able to kill the serpent yet, partly because it spat potent venom that even strong antipoison could only slightly dull, partly because it could temporarily take on a crystal form that resisted magic. The battle scenes had had more to them than that, though—Zulrah could not only speak, but had gleefully monologued about how it would rule the world and all would become one with it. Some of its lines had sounded almost like it was trying to seduce her.

That wasn’t the most ridiculous part so far, though—that had come in the most recent chapters, in the form of Ohn, the former leader of the Tyras guards stranded in Zul-Andra. He was said to have been a sacrifice early on in the book, but apparently he’d somehow survived by trying to drown himself in the Poison Waste swamp rather than be eaten, being washed out to the ocean, and ending up accidentally fished up by a fishing trawler. Even with the close calls she’d really had, Jaina still couldn’t buy that he would still be alive after all that.

Of course, it was obvious why Ohn was still alive—so he could be a hastily tacked-on love interest. The last thing he and Janni had spoken about was strategies to deal with Zulrah’s magic-resistant crystal and armored carapace forms respectively, as well as freeing the Zul-Andra dwellers from the taint of the “sacred eels” it used to brainwash them—and then they had randomly confessed their love seemingly out of nowhere, and now they were getting married in the current chapter. They had only been acquainted for three days, too! Whatever people might think if they knew she was seeing a Mahjarrat, Jaina could at least take comfort in the fact that she hadn’t ever been inclined to marry anyone so hastily, let alone someone she’d known for three days.

“So you are a hero to the elves now as well,” Azzanadra remarked suddenly, his voice proud. “I had only heard of the restoration of their city from hearsay so far, but I certainly suspected you were responsible!”

Jaina looked up and over at the book in his hand, recognizing it as The Voice of the Elders. “Yes, I was,” she said, nodding, “but I’m surprised you would want to read that one and not something like, say, the firsthand account of Zaros’ arrival to Gielinor…”

“I know that story all too well; Arrival Day was one of the greatest celebrations in the empire. You would have enjoyed the festivities… There was always a performance of the story of the arrival by Senntisten’s finest dancers, exotic food, and fireworks that lit up the sky after sundown…” He had that wistful, longing look in his eyes that was always there when he spoke of the empire. “I shall tell you more later. The elven lands—and, for that matter, the elves—remain largely a mystery to me, as does their goddess. My lord did not speak of Seren more than he had to, but he seemed to know her and did not wish harm to come to her lands or her followers… he did not disclose more than that, though.”

“Seren… well, she’s currently in need of re-assembling,” Jaina said, biting her lip. “I wonder if I’ll be needed for that… I’m guessing I will be…”

“Your presence will likely be requested for it either way, although I am unsure how she will be made whole if her body is currently a city.” Azzanadra sighed and looked despondently down at the book cover. “If only Senntisten could be re-grown as the elven city was, with the people intact… on the other hand, I do not think it would be right to build a city out of parts of Zaros…”

Jaina couldn’t help but imagine a purple crystal city, larger and more impressive-looking than Prifddinas, but the image was fleeting and rapidly faded away as she looked at her lover. He looked so sad, so forlorn, and she wanted nothing more than to comfort him as best she could.

Quietly she slipped a hand into his and snuggled closer, setting her book aside for the moment. Reaching up to cradle his cheek, she traced a couple fingers along his face stripes, and then leaned up a bit to softly nuzzle him. He relaxed at her touch, uttering a long, low, contented sound that could best be described as a purr.

“Miss Jaina?”

Never had such a small, soft voice been so startling. Jaina shot bolt upright, immediately turning in the direction the voice had come from, and then froze.

Little Julia was standing there, a platter full of what looked to be miniature chocolate cakes in hand. She was staring at the both of them with a very curious expression.

“Hi, Miss Jaina,” she said, waving with a smile. “I brought you something… who’s the big bunny-hat man? I thought he was a kitty at first…”

Azzanadra stiffened at the description of his hat, but he quickly regained his composure. “My hat is very important, little one.”

“He’s right, you know,” Jaina added, sitting up a bit straighter. “Um, well… Azzanadra, this is Julia; she’s one of my neighbors…”

“I live next door to Mr. Bert the sandy man,” Julia clarified. “My daddy’s a watch-a-man up on the tower! My mommy stays home and takes care of the house, and my Nana makes food for everybody!”

She approached the two and held out her platter proudly. “Here, have some of my chocwate cupcakes! All the cake pans were getting washed, so me and Nana put the batter into cups and baked little mini cakes!”

Jaina smiled awkwardly and selected two of the little cakes. “Th-thank you… They look just as good as a big cake…”

Julia beamed and motioned to the platter again. “You should have some too, Azza-zazzazz… um, Azza-zizza-zazzle… um… Mr. Weally Important Hat Man!”

Azzanadra chuckled softly and shook his head. “Ah, no thank you; I’m not hungry… I’m sure Jaina will want more of them, though…”

“You’re not the first to give him cake,” Jaina said, feeling her face grow a bit hot at the memory. “Um… not that I mind you visiting, but isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Daddy said it was awight for me to finish baking the cakes and bwing them to you first,” Julia replied. “Where’d Mr. Weally Important Hat Man come from? Is he your pet? Why is his name weally hard to say?”

Jaina tried to stifle a laugh, failing quite miserably at it. “Oh no, nothing like that… but…” She straightened up, her voice growing serious. “You mustn’t tell anyone else you saw him, okay?”

“How come?” Julia asked, blinking. “He seems fwiendly…”

Jaina smiled a little, but kept her voice firm. “Promise me you won’t tell…”

Julia looked thoughtful a moment, and then nodded. “Okay, I pwomise…”

Jaina swallowed and took a deep breath before she spoke up. “He’s quite friendly, yes… and very dear to me, too. We are to be married soon… but…”

“Weally?” Julia’s bright green eyes lit up, and she was practically bouncing in place. “I’ll make the cake! It’ll have three layers, with lots of white icing and pink woses…”

“I-I appreciate the thought, but it’s going to be a secret… If anyone saw you baking the cake, they would start asking questions…” Jaina shivered at the thought, inadvertently pressing closer to Azzanadra for warmth.

“How come it’s a secret?” Julia stopped squirming, her eager smile fading. “Is it because he’s a secret?”

“Your parents and neighbors would fear me, little one…” Azzanadra was shaking his head. “Humans these days seem to find my kind fearsome, and the locals here would be no different considering Hazeel and Khazard… I can be fearsome at times, but I greatly prefer things not to come to that…”

“Daddy told me about big meanie Khazard who lives to the north,” said Julia, wrinkling her nose. “He’s one of the dweaded Mask-kerjat, and he steals people and makes them get hurt for fun…”

She eyed him curiously. “But big meanie Khazard is ugly and smells bad… You’re not like that at all, Mr. Name-is-hard-to-say! Why would anybody think you’re scary? Are you a dweaded Mask-kerjat too, and that’s why people would get scared?”

“Mahjarrat, yes.” Azzanadra slowly nodded. “Mah-jar-rat. Sound it out slowly, and with practice you should be able to say it… though you still might be unable to spell it without help…”

“You’ll understand more when you’re older,” Jaina said, not wanting to try to explain all the details to such a young child. “I know I shouldn’t be asking you to keep secrets from your parents, but I’m scared of what will happen if everyone finds out…”

“Don’t worry,” said Julia cheerfully, handing Jaina another little cake. “Your secret’s safe with me! I won’t tell anybody about Mr. Name-is-hard-to-say! Or that he’s a Mah-ja-cat!”

“Thank you so much… you don’t know how important this is to me…” Jaina patted the small girl softly on the head, her grateful smile growing wider. “But you need to get home to bed before your parents get worried… You’re welcome to visit whenever you wish, but you do need your sleep!”

Julia yawned and nodded, setting the platter down on the end table. “Night, Miss Jaina! I wish I could go to your wedding and make the cake…”

She waved a bit tiredly and headed for the front door, Jaina watching her go. At the sound of the door shutting, the purple-haired mage relaxed a little, resting comfortably against her beloved once more.

“Your little friend is very inquisitive,” Azzanadra remarked, that familiar look of remembrance in his dark red eyes. “She reminds me of what the young temple students were like. They always had many questions for me—what was it like to be the Pontifex Maximus, did I really get to see Zaros frequently, how did I come up with sermons, why did they have to eat vegetables instead of sweets all the time…”

“I would hope they weren’t made to eat cabbage.” Jaina winced, trying not to gag. “My family wasn’t that well-off when I was little—my father had fallen into debt, and he made his living working various odd jobs around Lumbridge—so dinner every night was really disgusting, watery cabbage soup, up until I was five and old enough to go to school.”

She wrung her hands, looking up at him. “I didn’t mean to digress… it’s not surprising that they would want to ask questions. I still haven’t run out of things to ask you yet!”

Hardly had she finished speaking than her thoughts turned once more to the basement. Should she ask him about that? His warmth reminded her of the closeness they’d shared quite a few times before, and it had been awhile… on the other hand, it might seem a bit sudden…

“Is there anything you’re particularly curious about at the moment?”

There were indeed quite a few things she wanted to ask him, but the contract would prevent her from some of them unless she watched her phrasing closely. The young adventurer thought carefully, not wanting to induce magical pain again… and then it occurred to her. She had a question, one she’d wondered about for some time now, and she knew just what she would ask when she had her answer.

“Azzanadra, I know you were the Pontifex Maximus, but how were you addressed when spoken to? The way you’d call a king ‘Your Highness,’ or the duke of Lumbridge ‘Your Grace,’ I mean. Not that I’m saying you were the same as a king—in fact, you must’ve been way more important than any old king…”

“I understand what you mean,” he said, nodding. “When directly addressed, I was properly called Sanctissimus—‘Your Holiness.’ The word literally means ‘Most Holy One,’ but it was used in the same manner as ‘Your Highness’ would be used for a king, so either is technically correct. Not that you need to worry, of course; you are welcome to call me Azzanadra, or any pet name you wish.”

“I know, but the champion of Zaros deserves respect, whether he’s my beloved or otherwise.” She smiled brightly and rose to her feet, pausing a moment to collect herself before she spoke. “Well, Your Holiness, if I might make a small request,” she said, curtsying deeply, “will you share a bath with me?”

Azzanadra softly laughed and slowly stood up, purring as he pulled her into a hug. “I would love nothing more, although you don’t need to be quite so formal when asking about it.”

Jaina returned the embrace, feeling reluctant to let him go as she gazed up at him. It surprised her how much eagerness and anticipation she felt—had she ever been quite this excited before? At least she didn’t have much to do to prepare.

“I’ll meet you in the basement,” she said, smiling and giggling excitedly. “I have a little surprise of my own in mind!”

With that she headed upstairs to her room to change, unable to think of anything but the look on his face when he saw her next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And even a fluffier story can have serious and dramatic bits!
> 
> Zaros is really, really not easy to write, what with not really having emotions and having an almost purely logical approach to everything, as well as being, well, a god. I do hope I managed him passably... Zaros did say he wasn't omniscient, and I honestly don't think he knows about the divine energy = vital to conception thing, otherwise he would've likely taught the Mahjarrat a way to perform the ~ahem~ other ritual on Gielinor. And if he'd done that, there'd be more younger ones than just Khazard running around, even if only two or three.
> 
> It probably would've realistically taken a bit longer than a day to set up a bathtub... Look! More books! And my snarker side is showing a bit here, too. No, the book Jaina is reading isn't meant to be completely faithful to 07scape; it's meant to be a silly, pulpy, slightly over-the-top adventure novel.
> 
> I'm wondering if I should've had Julia be a teensy bit more frightened... then again, she did see Azzanadra in a particularly docile and very non-threatening state; I suspect it would've been a different story if she'd even seen him merely standing at full height.
> 
> I was originally going to include an onscreen love scene at the end, but does it really need to be there? Sure, the chapter is short, but it's nonetheless fine the way it is, and love scenes are not only time-consuming to write well, they have more of an impact when significant and rare. I had wanted to depict a more confident and eager Jaina to contrast with the earlier scenes that have her uncertain and apprehensive, but I think ending the chapter as is conveys that well enough.
> 
> One more part to go!


	3. Chapter 3

She stood quietly before the altar, looking down at the bouquet of flowers in her hands. The fragrant smell of the flowers calmed her nerves a little bit, and she knew she shouldn’t feel quite so apprehensive, but she was still shaking slightly where she stood, her heart beating more rapidly than usual.

Dropping to one knee, Jaina placed the bouquet at the base of the altar and slowly rose to light the pair of small candles adorning it. She did her best not to look at the huge Guthix icon up above, and once she’d lit the second candle, her gaze immediately fell upon the portrait hanging prominently on the chapel wall.

The portrait had been with her for as far back as she could remember—it had been taken on the first of Rintra of 152, only a few weeks before she’d been born. Father was smiling broadly despite his jet-black hair and beard being a bit unkempt and the stains on his work clothes, a bright twinkle in his smoky gray eyes. Mother was cradling her swollen belly and looking fondly down at it, her smile softer and more subtle, her long strawberry-blonde braid blowing gently in the wind.

Jaina sighed and closed her eyes, wishing they could have been here for her on such a big, important day. If only Father could hand her off, if only Mother could see her in her dress… As she wondered what today might have been like if they were still around, she found herself remembering the last time she’d been to a wedding with her family…

~***~

_4th of Bennath, 159 of the Fifth Age_

Seven-year-old Jaina stood on the green near the large stone circle in Taverley, shifting restlessly in place as she looked around. She was dressed in a checkered green dress and shiny black shoes, her hair plaited into two braids, with ribbons in her hair that matched her dress.

The whole family had gotten all dressed up for the occasion—Father looked sharp in his dark blue jacket and gray trousers, and his usually messy beard was neat and trim. Mother’s dress was patterned with pink, red, and white flowers, and she’d woven a bright green ribbon into her long braid. Ape Face, on the other hand, had already gotten grass stains on his nice gray pants and mud stains on his good shoes, and was currently squirming in Father’s grasp.

Even though Ape Face kept trying to mess up his nice clothes, he still looked more dressed up than the druids. Most of them were wearing green robes the color of the swamp on a sunny day, though some of them wore pale yellow instead. A lot of the robes did have shiny gold trim, but that still didn’t make them look nice enough to wear for a wedding—and why weren’t they wearing nice shoes? They all seemed to be wearing thin sandals instead.

Jaina didn’t want to stand around listening to druids talking before the wedding started; she wanted to go explore, see what there was to see, maybe find an adventure for later. She didn’t know much about this place, what this wedding was going to be like, or why the druids looked and smelled funny, but she did know that Mother’s younger cousin was the one getting married—which was why they got to stand so close to the stone circle—and that this village was where Mother used to live before she quit being a druidess and married Father.

She looked impatiently up at the stone circle. There were a bunch of druids walking around near it; Mother had told her that the old one with the golden wreath and the green cape was Kaqemeex, one of the high druids, who was going to perform the ceremony. She couldn’t tell which of the other ones was supposed to be the husband, though.

It felt like a really long time of waiting around while the druids kept talking before Mother gently squeezed her hand. “Look, the ceremony is starting!”

Jaina only nodded, holding tightly onto Mother’s hand as she looked up at the stone circle again. She saw a druid in a snow-white robe walk around to the side of the circle where Kaqemeex was standing. He had graying dark hair and a full beard, and wore a yellow flower in his robe and a wreath on his head.

The sound of a lute filled the air, and some of the druids started singing. Mother motioned in the other direction, and Jaina looked over to see a tall, pretty druidess with a bouquet in her hands coming towards the circle—this must be Runestax, Mother’s cousin. She wore a crown of colorful flowers in her short brown hair, and her long white robe was trimmed with lace and had a silver butterfly on it.

As she reached the circle and Kaqemeex announced that everyone was gathered here under the eternal protection of Guthix to see these two united, Jaina wondered why Runestax would want to marry someone that much older. Sure, she was a grown-up, and only a few years younger than Mother, but her husband looked older than Father, close to old enough to be somebody’s grandfather. Wouldn’t marrying someone closer in age be more balanced? Wouldn’t Guthix prefer married couples to be more equal than someone really old and someone really young would be?

She listened as the two promised to stay together for all their days, no matter what might happen, and maintain balance in their lives—the husband was called Memstix, she now knew—and wrapped a long flower garland around their clasped hands. Kaqemeex recited a blessing over the garland, one Jaina often heard her parents use: “May you walk the path and never fall, for Guthix walks beside you on your journey; peace in balance.”

The old druid straightened up his golden wreath and cleared his throat. “Light and dark, day and night, balance arises from contrast. I now unify thee in the name of Guthix!”

The rest of the druids cheered for the newly married couple, some throwing flowers and flower petals. The lute started to play again, and singing filled the air as the two walked together through the crowd, their hands still linked by the flower garland.

As the crowd started to leave, Jaina looked up at Mother. “Can I go ‘sploring now?”

Mother shook her head. “You shouldn’t wander off on your own so far from home, Jaina. Besides, the festivities aren’t over yet—there’s still food, drink, and dancing to be had!”

She gave Jaina’s hand a gentle pull. “Come along, this way—we need to personally wish them well.”

Jaina started to follow, but then she felt something yank one of her braids, and she yelped and spun around. “Ow! Ape Face, what was that for?”

Ape Face put on that look of fake innocence he always did when he pulled her pigtails. “Who, me?”

“Henry Kyle, what did I tell you about pulling your sister’s hair?” Father demanded sternly.

Ape Face’s puppy-eyed look wavered, and when he managed it again, he looked even more fake. “I wasn’t pulling her hair!”

Father raised both eyebrows. “If you don’t apologize, there’ll be no cake for you…”

“Wait, there’s cake?” Ape Face shot bolt upright, quickly shaking his head sheepishly at Jaina. “Sorrysorrynotgonnadothatagain…”

He dashed off towards where the crowd was headed, and Father had to give chase. Jaina was tempted to roll her eyes as she followed Mother after them.

She looked around at the village of Taverley as they went. The houses and buildings seemed to have mostly been grown out of the ground, almost like trees—what kind of magic could do that? Could she someday learn, maybe?

They came to the shore of a large shimmering blue lake, where there were tents and tables set up for the food and drink, though it looked like they hadn’t started to serve it yet. A line of people wanting to congratulate the newly married couple had formed, and Mother led the way onto its tail end.

Jaina was getting twitchy and hungry by the time they got to Runestax and Memstix—in fact, she didn’t notice they were even there until Runestax suddenly squealed and pulled Mother into a big hug. “Yaketysax! It’s been so long since we’ve seen you!”

Mother sighed and shook her head. “I told you you don’t need to use my druid name anymore, Drusilla,” she muttered as she returned the hug.

Runestax just laughed and smiled. “Cousin Phrynna, then. I’m just so glad you made it for my big day… how has the family been?”

They chatted for a little bit about stuff in Lumbridge and some of the work Father did, and Jaina wondered if she was too short for the grown-ups to notice her—but she didn’t have to go to the bathroom, and it wouldn’t be polite to interrupt while they were talking. Tutor Mikasi had tried to teach that lesson at school, but half the class didn’t seem to understand it; whenever she was trying to explain a spell or what certain runes did, somebody would always interrupt or start talking over her…

Ape Face chose that moment to yell out, “I want CAKE!” Father quickly picked him up and started to quietly scold him, but he just kicked and squirmed, almost kicking Memstix square in the beard.

To Jaina’s surprise, Memstix laughed as he stood straight up again, and leaned over to pat Ape Face on the head. “Bit impatient, aren’t we, little man? To tell you the truth, I really want some cake too!”

Runestax’s gaze fell upon Jaina, and her bright blue-green eyes lit right up. “Oh, these must be your darling children! Might I ask your name, little one?”

Jaina smiled shakily up at the bride and did her best curtsy. “How-do-you-do-ma’am? I’m Jaina and I’m seven!”

“So you’re the little magical prodigy I’ve heard quite a bit about!” Runestax squealed again, sounding more like a schoolgirl than a grown-up. “There’s more to magic than spells and runes, you know. If you visit Taverley more often, you should go see Pikkupstix; he can teach you the art of summoning! Your mother knows a thing or two about it as well.”

“I have been meaning to teach them both,” Mother remarked, “but there isn’t an obelisk in Lumbridge… I’ve had to order pouches on the Grand Exchange...”

“Are we gonna learn when we’re older?” Jaina asked. “Like how Father promised to help me learn to craft runes when I turn ten?”

Mother nodded. “You’re still too small to travel away from home too often, and summoning pouch ingredients can get very expensive, but I will definitely find time to get you to the obelisk here when you’re a bit older!”

“You’re very energetic,” Runestax said, holding out her bouquet slightly. “Do you want to try and catch my bouquet when I toss it? If you manage to catch it, it means you’ll be the next one to marry!”

Jaina wrinkled her nose. “I’m not gonna get married,” she stated firmly. “I’m gonna be a ‘venturer!”

Memstix laughed again as he looked over at her, then at Father. “Seems you’ve rubbed off on her already, eh, Daelin? She does have your eyes, and every bit of your spirit too!”

“She has always had a dream of adventure,” mused Father fondly. “The stories of my exploits have certainly only made it stronger, too! We are trying to make sure she learns as much as she can.”

“Oh, don’t presume things too soon,” Runestax said, still bright and cheerful. “You’re too young to say never—and you never know who you might meet, especially if you’re an adventurer!”

“I wanna do things,” said Jaina, rambling excitedly. “I’m gonna see the whole world, and hunt for buried treasure, and find out things that nobody else has ever found, and slay terrible monsters, and help out anybody who needs it!”

Father chuckled softly, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “Jaina, I know you’re excited, but the people behind us need to have their turns for congratulations too!”

Jaina felt stung, but she knew Father had a point. She gave the couple her best smile and waved to them. “Um… stay happy! May Guthix bring you balance!”

Memstix smiled fondly back at her. “And may Guthix bring you balance as well, and always walk beside you on your journey!”

After curtsying one more time, she followed Father towards the tent where people were lining up to have food served. Ape Face was already racing towards the cake, Mother chasing him this time.

~***~

So much had changed since then in such a short time, and in ways she could have never seen coming… that was the biggest reason she could never be certain about how Mother and Father might’ve felt about her decisions. Guthix, of course, wasn’t around to walk beside her on her journeys now, but Zaros was…

“I still wish you could be with me,” she said out loud to the portrait. “It’s probably for the better that you weren’t around to see what’s happening to the world, but I still miss you both… Even if you wouldn’t have understood… even if you would’ve been upset with me… I would’ve loved to have you here…”

A loud, insistent knocking from downstairs snapped Jaina out of her thoughts. Quickly she put out the candles, waved to the portrait one more time, and hurried down the hall to slide down the stair-rail.

When she got to the front door, the demon butler was already escorting Char inside; Zanik and Henry were still standing in the doorway. Zanik was wearing a slate-gray skirt, a light orange blouse, and a pale yellow scarf, her hair neatly done up in four braids. Henry had on a suit of black and purple armor, minus the helmet, with large spikes on the shoulders and a symbol of Zaros on the breastplate.

“Jaina!” Zanik hurried up to her, pulling her into a tight hug. Jaina had to duck down to return the hug, but she didn’t particularly mind. As she straightened up again, however, she felt something yank on one of her pigtails.

“Ow!” She winced and turned around indignantly. “Ape Face, what was that for?”

Henry wasn’t even trying to look innocent. “For old times’ sake, of course!”

He turned to close the door behind him, and Zanik eyed him oddly and blinked at Jaina a few times. “Your brother is certainly strange…”

“Little brothers are like that,” said Jaina, shrugging. “I guess there are some things one never grows out of…”

“Jaina,” Char called out, motioning to her. She looked resplendent in her elaborate, flame-patterned red and gold dancing costume, and the headdress she had on resembled a rising sun. “I trust you’ve made your final preparations so far?”

Jaina quickly nodded. “Yes—I just finished with the cake not long before you all arrived. I-I have a box for it, too…”

“Good—go and get dressed, and don’t waste any time.” The dancer handed her a large package; a quick peek inside revealed that it contained the dress and veil, as expected. Jaina felt her heart jump a little as she carefully clutched the package to her chest… was this really happening? Even though she knew from experience that it wasn’t a dream, it didn’t quite feel like it could be real…

Quickly she excused herself for the moment and headed upstairs to her room. Setting the veil aside for the moment, she untied her hair and changed into the dress, taking a few moments to gaze at her reflection in the mirror. The thought of her beloved seeing her like this made her shiver in anticipation, and she had to breathe deeply a few times before sitting down to brush her hair.

She had tried out several hairstyles the evening before, trying to settle on one that was elegant and striking, yet still simple and easy; she now knew precisely what she wanted. Looking closely in the mirror, she began work on a medium-sized thin braid on the left side of her head. It got very difficult when she got around to the back; she had to use both the large mirror and a hand mirror to check on her progress, but soon enough she managed it.

Once she had braided her hair on the right side as well, she carefully joined the two braids in the back with a smaller hair tie and looked proudly upon her handiwork. She would need help putting the veil on properly, but now she was otherwise dressed and ready.

She had to watch her step and lift her skirt slightly as she headed down the stairs; the softness of her red silk slippers felt strange compared to the sturdier, more solid shoes she was used to. It was almost like she might float off the ground with every step.

As she got back downstairs, Alathazdrar bowed deeply. “Your dress suits you well, Mistress. Shall I go and box the cake for you?”

Jaina smiled graciously and nodded. “Yes, please… be careful not to smear the icing…”

Zanik was gazing up at her with wide eyes. “Wow… I-I’ve never seen you look so… so…” She trailed off a moment, shifting awkwardly in place. “…So elegantly dressed…”

“You’re missing something,” Char pointed out, and moved to take the veil from Jaina’s hands. Placing it on her head, she set it in place with a couple tiny hairpins, adjusting them a few times before nodding her approval. “Now you look like a proper bride… I dearly pray that you will also act like one, and conduct yourself appropriately in the presence of my lord.”

“Of course,” Jaina said quickly, careful not to nod too hard in case it would mess up the veil. “I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise!”

Henry blinked and stared at her. “That’s what you’re wearing? Sure, you look like a princess—like a queen even—but wedding dresses are white…”

“That wasn’t always the case,” Jaina pointed out. “White wedding dresses were first worn by queens in the late Fourth Age, when the current monarchies were first being established; before, especially during the God Wars, you would simply have to wear the nicest dress you could! Even now, not everyone wears a white dress—if I remember right, it’s traditional for Zamorakians to wear red instead.”

“Well, even if you aren’t wearing a real wedding dress,” said Henry, “are you really sure about this? He’s still a Mahja-thing… are you sure he’s gonna treat you right? What if he tests out strange dark magic on you? What if his kiss turns you into a Mahja-thing? What if something really awful happens to you? For all we know, Mahja-things mate by eating their partners alive, like some spiders!”

“That only works if the female does the eating, Ape Face. And even if the Mahjarrat did eat, their birth rate is low enough that eating their lovers would be counterproductive…”

“Well then, what if he asks you to eat him? Would you do it? What if your god told you to do it?”

Jaina sighed, trying to squelch all the mental images that threatened to form. “Ape Face, were you even listening to me? I know what I’m doing, and yes, I’m sure of it!” She shook her head and muttered softly, “If the Mahjarrat had any kind of deadly aspect to how they mate, I would know about it by now…”

Thankfully Alathazdrar chose that moment to walk in with the cake box. “Shall I deliver the cake to the location of the ceremony, Mistress?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary! You’ve done so much already.” Jaina smiled uneasily, taking the cake box. “Your payment is in a purse in the parlor—I made sure to leave a generous tip! I do hope everyone will be well-behaved under your watch!”

“I shall ensure it.” The butler nodded steadfastly. “Do you need any preparations made to your bedroom before you return?”

She shook her head, trying not to blush, and tucked the cake box under her arm. Alathazdrar bowed deeply once more and smiled politely. “I wish you the best, Mistress…”

As he headed into the parlor, Zanik moved to stand by Jaina’s side. “Are you nervous?” she asked, wringing her hands. “I-I know I am…”

“A little…” Jaina frowned and nodded slowly. “For different reasons than you, though…”

“I only saw Bandos himself at a distance, but that was even more frightening than I could’ve imagined… I want to be here for you today, but the thought of being so close to a god…” The cave goblin woman reached up to hug her, rising up on tiptoe as she did.

Jaina put the cake box on a chair and returned the hug, a little more tightly this time. Part of her wondered if she should’ve asked Zanik to come at all; she didn’t want her to be uncomfortable or for the experience to be more distressing than pleasant… No, she shouldn’t think like that; Zanik would have told her if she didn’t want to come…

“I know it must seem intimidating,” she finally said, “but I promise my lord will cause no harm. I do know everyone who’ll be there fairly well, and they don’t bite, either…”

Zanik blinked, smiling a little shakily. “Don’t be worried for me, Jaina. It’s your big day, and I want to see you happy! I’d face a roomful of gods for the sake of those I care about!”

The confidence in her voice seemed to be contagious, and Jaina felt a smile spread across her face. “I certainly would too…” _And I’ll likely have to, for everyone, eventually…_

“How are we gonna get there?” Henry suddenly asked. “We don’t have to walk all the way from Varrock, I hope?”

“There is a teleport spell that goes directly there,” Char pointed out. “Which we will be using.”

With that the dancer teleported, and Jaina stood up, picking up the cake box and the set of law and soul runes she’d brought downstairs. “Well, let’s not waste any more time…”

Henry and Zanik held onto her as she cast the teleport, not letting go until their feet were on the ground once more. As the familiar sight of the excavated ruins came into view, Jaina barely had time to react before three of the workmen ran up to her, waving. One of them, his apron particularly dustier and dirtier than the others’, was already speaking up.

“Evening, Jaina! Come to see Dr. Nabanik again? You seem a little overdressed to be here…”

The second workman nodded. “Why, you look fit to dance at a royal ball!”

“Or at a grand wedding,” the third added.

Jaina smiled awkwardly, shifting the cake box slightly under her arm. “You don’t need to flatter me so much…” she half mumbled, looking around. She didn’t see where Zanik or Henry had gone, or even realized that they weren’t with her anymore until just now—had they hurried past so as not to be questioned, perhaps? 

“Your dress is magnificent, but also very interesting,” the second workman remarked, looking her over. “The ancient symbols are a unique touch! Does that design choice reflect your findings for the museum?”

“What’s the outfit for, anyway?” the first inquired. “Doubtless you’re here to see Dr. Nabanik, as usual… Did you wish to dress up for him?”

“We saw him earlier,” the third chimed in. “He was meeting up with two men from the desert—an old scholar and a merchant, I believe? Said they were friends of his…”

“Yes, I know them too,” Jaina said quickly, nodding nervously. She had to think quick, and hopefully they wouldn’t keep her long…

“You know how the restoration down there was meant to recreate a part of the ancient city?” she finally said, hoping her voice wouldn’t shake. “We’ve been looking more into its customs and traditions, and Aurelius—Dr. Nabanik—has made a few discoveries pertaining to religious rituals of old, as well as about the sorts of art and fashion they were into!”

The first workman laughed and smiled. “It’s been awhile since you two ran off together, hasn’t it? I can’t quite remember how long it’s been or exactly when it happened… still, I’m sure your company is doing him an awful lot of good. He must get lonely working down there all the time!”

“That does explain the ancient symbols,” the second added. “You look like you might be some kind of dancer… I wonder if the veil has any religious significance? Did women in the ancient city all wear them?”

The third looked at the cake box. “I see you brought him a little treat, too! I always appreciate the lunches my wife makes; I’m sure he must really enjoy your cooking!”

Jaina couldn’t help but remember when she’d first brought cake here, and her shaky smile was hurting her cheeks. “Yes, I-I did put a lot of effort into making this cake special… speaking of that, it’s good to see you all faring well, but I really mustn’t keep Aurelius waiting! He’s been expecting me, you know…”

The first workman smiled and nodded. “Then we won’t keep you any longer! Give Dr. Nabanik our regards—and his friends from the desert too, if you see them!”

“Has he found out anything about ancient dance customs?” the second put in. “I’m sure you two would have a wonderful time practicing that part of the research!”

“I wish we were allowed down there,” said the third, looking forlorn. “It gets so boring up here! We haven’t found anything new since you uncovered that pagan god’s talisman…”

Jaina hastily nodded at them and waved as she skirted around them. The temple entrance rope was just up ahead, and so were Henry and Zanik, with another workman blocking their way.

“Sir, ma’am, this is a private restoration and you need the proper permissions to enter—”

“They have them,” Jaina called out, hurrying over. “They’re with me—I can vouch for them!”

The workman frowned and scratched his beard. “These are friends of yours, Miss Jaina? Are you sure Dr. Nabanik agreed to allow them down there?”

“Yes, he did,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t ask for paperwork. “I asked him personally, in fact. They have permission to visit with me today!”

The workman glanced skeptically at Henry and Zanik, silent for a long and awkward moment. Then he slowly nodded to them. “Very well, you can go down there, but Miss Katarn must accompany you, and you must do as Dr. Nabanik tells you. We can’t afford for his hard work to be damaged, understand?”

Zanik was visibly trying to hide her indignance as she nodded stiffly; Henry, on the other hand, wasn’t even trying, what with his very obvious dark scowl. “Jerk,” he muttered, not very quietly either.

Before things could escalate further, Jaina quickly motioned them both towards the rope. Zanik could climb down easily, but Henry needed a bit of extra help even getting onto it thanks to the bulk and weight of his armor. Jaina had to be particularly careful herself this time; it was much harder to get down the rope in such a long, flowing skirt, and while carrying a cake, no less. She had to be mindful of her dress anyway, so as not to damage it.

Char was waiting for them just outside the temple entrance, along with two masked mages, one in dark red and one in pale blue, that Jaina recognized as Nex’s generals. She wondered if the other two were here as well, and if Nex herself had chosen to attend, but the thought faded quite suddenly as Char motioned to her.

“Wait here,” the dancer instructed. “When the music starts, you’ll walk in, proceed to the altar, and then your brother will come up to hand you off. You know what to do from there, yes?”

Jaina nodded slowly. “Yes… I think I’m ready…”

“Good—I don’t want you bumbling in the presence of our lord.” Taking the cake box from her, Char passed it to the mage in blue and turned to Zanik and Henry. “Cruor and Glacies will show you to your places, as well as where the drinks are to be placed. You did say you brought drink, yes?”

Henry nodded excitedly. “I brought more than enough booze to go around! And I’m probably gonna need a lot of it before we’re through…”

“Just follow Glacies,” Char said bluntly, pointing him towards the mage in question. Cruor was already leading Zanik inside, and Henry was eyeing Glacies oddly as he trailed after her.

Once the others had gone into the temple, Char gave Jaina one more severe look before heading in herself. Jaina felt her heart speed up once she was left alone to wait—whether the small knot in her stomach was for Zanik, because of what Henry might do, because Zaros himself would be there, or because multiple people would actually see her by Azzanadra’s side, she wasn’t sure. On the other hand, she could also barely stand still or stand the thought of waiting; she wanted to see the look on his face when he saw her… On the other other hand, this whole thing did still feel strange in some ways.

Tempted as she was to peek into the temple, she restrained herself. She wanted to be surprised by what she might see there, and it wouldn’t be long; she had only to await the music.

~***~

Zanik remembered feeling small the first time she’d met Jaina, and she’d felt even smaller beside the humans in Lumbridge as the two of them explored the surface together. Never in her life, though, had she ever felt as small as she did now! She had at least expected a god, but she hadn’t expected everyone else to be what she saw!

The four masked human mages going around making last-minute preparations, including the one who had led her in, weren’t so bad, and though the fire dancer was rather intimidating with her height and her mannerisms, at least she had seen her beforehand. But the others…

Two strange, fearsome-looking, tall men stood on the opposite side of the painted blue circle on the floor from where she stood. One was dressed in robes of burnt orange, the other in a dark green robe; Zanik surmised they were mages of some kind. They looked to be even taller than humans, with skin the same shade of gray as a sick child might turn, and their faces were lined with peculiar markings that Zanik hoped weren’t some kind of war paint. Their eyes were small, with dark red irises and blacks instead of whites. The green-clad man was completely bald and had odd spines and ridges lining the sides of his head, and a small green gem in his forehead. The orange-clad man also had a small teardrop-shaped gem in his forehead; his was blue.

A third man stood over by the altar, near a floating, faceless figure in thick purple robes that Zanik suspected could only be the god; she quickly averted her eyes from the terrifying sight and fixed her gaze squarely on the tall man. He seemed even taller than the other two, thanks to his large two-pronged hat that looked a bit similar to the mages’ masks, except for the white gem in the center. His robe was the most opulent of all, purple, red, and black with silver and gold trim, and he held a purple rose in one of his large, gloved hands.

Zanik found it hard to believe that this could be the man Jaina loved. Well, she must see something in him, as well as in the god; she had said he was a good friend. But what was it that she saw in him exactly? Why would she be drawn to him more than to any human man?

The man in orange waved at Zanik, a surprisingly welcoming smile crossing his face as he beckoned. The cave goblin woman had to breathe deeply as she made her way over to the pair—and then she felt even smaller standing beside them. They had to be as tall to a human as humans were to goblins!

“You must be Jaina’s friend!” the orange-clad man exclaimed, still smiling.

Zanik nodded, hoping she wouldn’t strain her neck too much looking up at them. “Yes, I’m Zanik of the Dorgeshuun! I’m an adventurer myself.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” the green-clad man said politely. “You seem intimidated—have you simply never seen a Mahjarrat before?”

Zanik shook her head. “No, I haven’t… I don’t actually know what one is either…”

“You do now, because you’re looking at two of them,” the man in orange explained with a chuckle, and inclined his head in greeting. “I am Akthanakos, by the way, and this is Wahisietel, and our brother over there is Azzanadra.”

The man in green—Wahisietel—was giving her a curious look. “I take it that Jaina trusts you unusually greatly, if she would ask you to be here.”

Zanik nodded again, feeling a lump in her throat. She didn’t want to bring up the subject of gods or the Godless if it could be helped; she had to be very careful about what she was going to say. “Yes, it meant a lot to me… More than she might realize… She didn’t exactly tell me all the details, though…”

Wahisietel frowned, his brow furrowing. “She may have been trying to be cautious, but I do hope she at least mentioned our lord would be here!”

“She told me that part,” Zanik said quickly, “and she told me to keep this secret, but she didn’t say that the man she loved wasn’t human—not that I mind; I’m just very surprised!” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Why does she want to keep this a secret? I already promised her I wouldn’t tell…”

“To say things aren’t easy for the faithful of Zaros is an understatement,” Akthanakos said quietly, glancing down at his hands. “We have to maintain human guises in public, keep our allegiance secret, deal with many enemies—even our lord’s much-awaited return was so secret that I wasn’t present! Humans fear the Mahjarrat greatly as well, but I promise you, at least some of us mean no harm!”

Wahisietel stiffened and gave Akthanakos an uncomfortably unreadable look before returning his dark gaze to Zanik. “I dearly pray that Jaina’s trust in you was not misplaced…”

“I’m sure it wasn’t—let’s not frighten her,” Akthanakos said, and then smiled warmly once more. “So, Zanik, have you known Jaina long? How did you two meet?”

Zanik recounted her excitement about seeing the surface, the first time she saw Jaina, and the subsequent tour of Lumbridge, careful not to say anything about the gods. She felt more at ease telling the story; whatever everyone’s religious allegiance, at least Jaina was something they had in common.

“You and Jaina are hardly the only ones who have wished to explore unfamiliar territory,” Akthanakos remarked. “There is much this world has that’s most interesting—I have a particular fascination with the various creatures all over, particularly desert species. Believe it or not, we didn’t have plant life or unintelligent beasts on our home plane!”

“You speak of her rather fondly,” Wahisietel noted. “If you don’t mind me asking, were you ever particularly close?”

Zanik shook her head. “No, I didn’t even… well, it’s a long story, but I didn’t want to lose her friendship or live in her shadow forever. I wanted to go my own way, be recognized for my own deeds and not just as her friend…” She trailed off, suddenly worried that she’d even brought that up at all.

Her eyes strayed to the four mages; the one in black was pulling a small harp seemingly out of nowhere, the one in red now had some kind of large woodwind pipe, and the one in blue was dusting off a lute. The fourth, dressed in gray, was talking to Jaina’s brother about something, though Zanik couldn’t hear a word of it.

She looked back up at the two, not quite as nervous when she spoke up this time. “Um… how did you first meet Jaina? Did you all meet her at the same time?”

Akthanakos started to speak, but Wahisietel shook his head. “We will speak of that further after the ceremony—I believe it is about to begin.”

Zanik nodded and curtsied to them politely before hurrying over to her side of the blue circle. The mage in gray quickly ushered Jaina’s brother over to stand next to her, bowing his head to them before rejoining his companions.

She looked over at the temple entrance a little impatiently. If she could stay focused on Jaina, she wouldn’t have to think too much about the god being there.

~***~

The first strains of the harp were soft and soothing, and at first Jaina relaxed at the sound, listening more closely. Then the clear, lively sounds of other instruments filled the air, and she straightened up suddenly, nearly tripping over her skirt. That was her cue!

She quickly smoothed out her skirt and took a deep breath, releasing the tension in her shoulders. Then she slowly made her way into the temple, her heart fluttering as it often had many times before.

She could feel all eyes on her as she walked in, and couldn’t help but glance around the chamber. It was surprising to see that Nex’s four mages were playing the wondrous tune that filled the room—she hadn’t suspected they did more than specialize in one element! The fearsome general herself didn’t seem to be there, though. It was probably better for her to stay with her forces anyway…

Jaina smiled softly at everyone as she looked their way, and then her breath hitched in her throat when she caught sight of Azzanadra.

She hadn’t much thought about what he might wear, and she wasn’t sure whether her surprise at the sight made sense. He looked even more regal and commanding than usual in his rich robes of deep purple, black, and dark red that matched his eyes, accented with prominent symbols of Zaros and thin silver and gold threads. Even his hat, the same hat as always, seemed taller and more elaborate. He was holding something in one hand, though she couldn’t see what, and his eyes never left her.

Her heart raced as she met his gaze, all of her worries, her apprehension, instantly fading, and she felt a smile spread across her face. Excitedly she ran to him, no longer caring what anyone present might think.

She quickly came to a stop when she reached the altar, seeing Zaros floating behind it. Inclining her head, she curtsied deeply before the Empty Lord, hoping her eagerness hadn’t been disrespectful, and curtsied again as she turned to face Azzanadra.

He nodded her way and handed her a purple rose—so that was what he’d been holding! She accepted it graciously and smiled, looking around expectantly for her brother—and saw that he hadn’t moved at all from where he stood near Zanik.

She scowled in Henry’s direction and motioned to him as discreetly as she could, but it took him a couple of seconds to see it. Fortunately, one of Nex’s mages—was it Fumus or Umbra? Wait, it was definitely Umbra—noticed him as well and quickly ushered him over before he could react. Henry gave an awkward grin and hung his head, and then reluctantly placed Jaina’s hand in Azzanadra’s before clanking back over to his place.

Zaros spoke, his voice echoing slightly off the temple walls. “All gathered here this evening, you are present to witness the union of two of my faithful. It is not usually that I perform these rites personally, but it is nonetheless fitting for my most loyal follower.”

Jaina listened quietly as he briefly discussed Azzanadra’s loyalty and how much he’d accomplished in spite of great adversity, and then moved on to say how important to his plans she was and how she had chosen to give her loyalty as well despite it not being needed. She suspected that what would have been said at weddings in the empire would have been far different—what might it have been exactly?

She was a bit startled when Zaros said something in Infernal that she didn’t quite catch. Oh, of course—she’d had to prepare extensively and practice for the ceremony proper, what with her Infernal being very rusty at best, but she’d still been taken off guard.

She listened more closely, doing her best to keep up as Zaros detailed, still in Infernal, what it was their vows would mean—that they must be faithful and loyal to one another, support one another in times of need, be prepared to bear and provide for children, control selfish impulses and always consider the other’s needs, and remember that a bond made before the Empty Lord could never be broken. When he was done, he looked to Azzanadra. “If you would promise all this to one another, do so now.”

Azzanadra nodded respectfully to Zaros and turned to Jaina once more, tilting her chin up so that her eyes met his. “The path of fate has led me to you, and I will guide you as we walk it together. I shall stay with you always—you, and no other.”

Jaina felt a small warmth in her chest at the sight of his smile, and then, almost immediately, she could feel Zaros’ gaze fall on her—now it was her turn. She had to think and swallow hard before she spoke, and pushed her worries about how atrociously she pronounced the Infernal into the back of her mind. When she did speak, her voice came out clear and confident.

“I am the light to your darkness, the day to your night, the sun to your moon. I will stay with you always—you, and no other...” Her smile broadened as she met his gaze, and she couldn’t resist whispering one small extra thing: “My treasure…”

Zaros nodded slowly and spoke once more. “My faithful and loyal, may you succeed together in your deeds, for I now join you by my power.”

Smiling broadly, Azzanadra pulled Jaina into a firm embrace and ducked down slightly to press his forehead softly to hers. She returned the hug and the smile a bit more softly and contentedly closed her eyes, suspecting that he was going for a gesture more subtle than a kiss thanks to Zaros’ presence. She didn’t mind at all; it had its own pleasant charm to it.

Pulling apart from the hug, Azzanadra bowed gracefully to Zaros, switching to the common tongue when he spoke. “I must thank you again for this, my lord.”

“Think nothing of it,” Zaros said, having reverted to the common tongue as well, and then turned to address Jaina in a hushed tone. “World Guardian, we must speak later regarding the goblin woman. I sense something is amiss with her.”

Jaina frowned and blinked. “What kind of something, my lord? Is it something she did?”

Zaros shook his head. “We will speak of it another time. I shall leave you to your revelry for now.”

With that he moved behind the portal, and Azzanadra led Jaina into the center of the temple as the first strains of music started up again. Immediately he led her into the first steps of a slow dance, deftly twirling her under his arm in time with the tune.

Jaina followed his lead, her skirt swirling around her with every step, and couldn’t help but think of the first time they had shared a dance. That had been just the two of them—well, Zaros might have noticed—but even though they now danced for all to see, she barely noticed anyone else at the moment. She was at her beloved’s side, and that was what mattered.

She was still smiling up at him as the last few bars faded and they came to a stop. The others were gathering around them now, save for Char, who had already begun to dance as the four mages started up on a faster-paced song.

“How does it feel, brother?” Akthanakos asked, his eyes twinkling. “Strange? Overwhelming? Do you have a better understanding of humans thanks to engaging in one of their traditions? Was it that much different from presiding over it?”

“You seem to know everyone here, Jaina,” Zanik piped up. “Oh, and I’m pleased to finally meet you, sir… Jaina spoke highly of you! How did you meet exactly?”

Henry looked perplexed. “So, um, what exactly is your full name going to be now? Do Mahja-things even have family names? Are you Mrs. Naba-ginger, or are you just going to put ‘of Lumbridge, Miscellania, and wherever-it-is-he-comes-from’ at the end of your name?”

“Slow down, slow down!” Jaina exclaimed quickly. “We’ll answer your questions one at a time; if you all ask at once, I won’t be able to keep up…”

Everyone quieted for the moment, and she decided to start with Henry’s question. “My name isn’t going to change—I’m still Jaina Katarn. Even ‘of Lumbridge and Senntisten’ would both be a mouthful and invite too many questions!”

“As for your other question,” Wahisietel added, “our kind has only ever had the need for a single name each.”

The rest of the conversing went fairly smoothly after that, with questions being asked and stories being told in between watching Char dance. Jaina glanced over behind the portal a few times, and saw that Zaros did indeed seem to appreciate Char’s performance—his eight eyes were fixed squarely on the dancer as she deftly twirled streams of flame around her.

“Correct me if I’m misremembering,” Akthanakos finally remarked, “but was it not part of the rite to share a cake afterwards? It would be a shame for that cake over there to go to waste.”

“Indeed it would,” Azzanadra said, “however, it is better that those who can make the most use of it be the ones to share it. Jaina, you would not mind if I had a few moments with my brothers, yes?”

Jaina merely nodded. She didn’t mind at all—it wouldn’t hurt to let him spend a short time with just his fellow Mahjarrat, and for her to talk a bit with Zanik and Henry over cake. They would likely have things to ask out of earshot of the others…

She made her way over to the wall where the cake was; as she got there, Glacies bowed and handed her a slice. Zanik was already heading over after her, looking back at the Mahjarrat with puzzled glances a few times.

Jaina was halfway through her cake when an alarmed yelp split the air suddenly, followed by frantic clanking. Her eyes widened as her brother rushed over to her and grabbed her arm forcefully.

“Don’t eat it, don’t eat it! The cake is poisoned!”

Jaina blinked a few times and gave Henry a blank stare. “Ape Face, what are you going on about?”

“It’s the cake!” Henry repeated. “Isn’t it suspicious that nobody else is eating it? It has to be poisoned! I don’t know which one of ‘em did it, but this was clearly a trap!”

Everyone was staring at him now, and Jaina resisted the urge to slap her forehead. “If they had wanted me dead, why would they wait so long to try to get rid of me, and after going to all the trouble to set up a secret wedding? Why wouldn’t they have used more efficient, discreet methods, and far sooner? Ape Face, I already told you that Mahjarrat don’t need to eat!”

“How do they not need to eat?” Henry raised an eyebrow. “That’s ridiculous! I bet they’re just making it up!”

The words were already on Jaina’s lips, but before she could reply, Glacies spoke up. “Sir, you are a guest in the Great Lord’s presence, and in his most holy temple. Your presence here is also a great privilege this evening. We therefore ask that you please conduct yourself appropriately.”

“Yes, exactly,” Jaina said bluntly, “and besides, I made the cake myself, so I would know if it was poisoned or not.”

“I’m only worried for your well-being,” Henry pointed out, his voice more quiet and even. “I haven’t been there for you when you needed it a lot of times… I came here because I wanted to fix that…”

“I know you mean well and all, but you jump to conclusions too easily,” said Jaina, her tone softer but still slightly exasperated. “You need to trust me on some things—I’ve been all over the world and learned many things the average person would never think of. I’m pretty sure I know what I’m talking about most of the time!”

“Well, someone has to worry for you…” Henry sighed and examined the cake more closely, and he stepped back and wrinkled his nose. “Awww, did it have to be chocolate? It might as well be poisoned! Good Guthix, I need a drink…”

He went over to one of the kegs of beer he’d brought and took a tankard from his bag to fill, and Zanik looked up worriedly from her slice of cake. “Will the g—the Great Lord be angry that your brother acted out like that?”

“My lord seems to be remarkably patient with a lot of things,” Jaina remarked, shifting nervously before returning to her cake. “He wasn’t even angry or offended at his betrayer… his followers, on the other hand… They are all good friends, but they will still be a different story…”

“A god who doesn’t get angry?” Zanik blinked and frowned. “It seems too good to be true… What do you mean by a different story exactly?”

“I mean I can tell you wouldn’t want to be on their bad side,” said Jaina quietly, accepting another slice of cake from Glacies. “Azzanadra often speaks of how he admires what I’ve done, and has never hurt me when he very well could have, and he has this natural warmth to him… but, say, whenever he speaks of Zamorak or his followers, there’s this look in his eyes that makes me very glad he isn’t my enemy…”

She gently placed a reassuring hand on the cave goblin woman’s head. “When we were about to face Bandos’ avatar, I saw the very same look in your eyes.”

Zanik slowly nodded. “So it’s righteous anger and determination, you mean?”

“Yes, that’s precisely it!” Jaina said brightly, beaming down at her friend. “I do appreciate your understanding, even just a little bit…”

It wasn’t much longer before the rest of the cake was finished, and Zanik suddenly frowned and looked down at the floor. “I-I’m sorry, Jaina, I’m starting to feel a bit sick again… is it alright if I leave early?”

“What? Oh… o-of course!” Jaina nodded worriedly, wondering if this was what Zaros had wanted to discuss with her later. “Don’t worry about me; if you’re sick, you need to get some rest!”

Zanik rose up on tiptoe to hug her once more. “Thank you for having me here… it’s good to see you happy, at least…” With that she broke one of Oldak’s spheres, teleporting off to Dorgesh-Kaan.

The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful, save for Henry passing out cold on the floor after one keg of beer too many; Fumus and Umbra had to drag him out of the temple. Zaros had vanished, presumably into the Shadow Realm, at some point; Jaina wasn’t sure when exactly.

She was feeling a bit restless when at last she felt a strong hand squeeze hers, and she turned around to see Azzanadra gazing at her intensely. “As good as it has been to have the company of our lord’s most faithful,” he whispered, uttering a low growl-hiss that was both harsh and oddly seductive, “I wish to have you to myself for some time…”

Jaina smiled up at him and squeezed his hand tighter, her heart already racing. “Y-yes… I would be happy to oblige…”

“Come closer, then.” His other arm slid slowly around her waist, and he quietly teleported them both to her bedroom. As the familiar sight came into view, she could see the moon rising outside her window—it seemed there was going to be a long night ahead of them. Not that she would mind, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go, one fluffy wedding scene with a side of sibling and friend bonds, coming up!
> 
> Today on "AceTrainerAlicia does something with extremely minor NPCs who have all of two lines in the actual game..." The flashback sequence was actually the most enjoyable scene of this part to write. Familial love is important too, after all, even in--arguably very much in--a romantic story.
> 
> Speaking of characters who don't have much canon to go off of, I figured that the camel thing might mean Akthanakos is an animal lover in general. I can imagine him or other Mahjarrat being fascinated by them, since nothing like the various fauna of Gielinor existed on Freneskae.
> 
> I had considered having Nex be present, but I thought that would be a bit of a stretch. I'd also wanted to include her mages explaining to Henry that it is more honorable to earn her warriors' armor by proving your worth in combat with her rather than buying it, but that didn't have time to make it onscreen into the final cut. Though I did intend a lot of stuff to be going on that Jaina doesn't necessarily notice--for instance, I don't think the Zarosians trust either Zanik or Henry being there all that much, even if they don't voice it.
> 
> I wanted the wedding rites, both flashback and otherwise, to be noticeably different somehow from the real-world, Western WASP rites that are commonly known. I did, of course, draw from the god books, but those only detail so much, so I had to fill in the gaps a lot. "I am the light to your darkness" was inspired both by the whole Zaros-Seren thing and the vow that Roman brides used ("Where you are Gaius, I am Gaia.")
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated, and I hope you enjoy!


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